We live in momentary ways
For we have been caught up
In a temporary world
We did not know.
We have played charades
Of how to live and let die
In a poor fleeting life,
Found in a distant place
Not called our own.
Amid our borrowed masks,
We wore them to blend in
With a fallen broken world,
We had so long thought
Was not meant to be home.
We became pretenders
Of a shallow existence,
Holding fast to our comforts
And Longing for reception
In a place we don’t belong.
How have we so forgotten
That we are the children
Who are born of redemption,
Anticipating and longing
For a time without end?
We are the messengers
To a world weighed down
By transgression and iniquity,
Who long for a sacred hope
From all they have known.
A narrow path has been laid,
So rarely traveled down,
Calling us live a different way
As strangers and refugees
looking for an unending home.
