Classic Poem

i'm not trying to make this/us difficult;
this is my own stupidity,
my own boy-ishness that keeps
all that i long for from bounding out.

what DO i long for?
well, that's the question!
but i've realized i cannot answer it.
i've realized that romanticism, these sunrises, can't work it.
i've realized even she cannot answer it.

i long to to be a man, yet i cannot see past
this cell I've been molded to.
i long to be His-His I say! -
i am afraid of growing old
without following my Savior.
yet i am so afraid of following.

to follow=to leave where i am;
to leave where i am=change;
change=what if? who am i? who is she? will she come too?

I long for You to make me a man...
To make me strong and steadfast.
Though, not by wordly measures,
not by success or by might or by wealth.
for i am through with shadowlands.

Jesus, I'm Yours.
I am on my face;
The night is long,
But there is joy in suffering!
There is joy in Your name!

Let us always be Yours, Lord!