Fine Clothes Not Required, Come as You Are

Did I hear you
Call my name
The wind
Howling in the trees
Echoes the unease
That grips my soul

Yet still,
I hear you calling my name
Inviting me again

The table is laid in the heart
Bread and wine
In plenty
Come and eat your fill
Come, as you will
Wounded, afraid
No less the child I made

Come, you are my guest
Clothes not the best
But it’s the heart
Not the head
That yearns for bread
That will satisfy

Come to my table
Come, as you’re able
bring them all
the wounds you bear
the loneliness and despair
bring all you are
and ever have been

For you are mine

Do you not understand
I have watched you
Lest you fall
Against the world
I know it hurts
Your fist raised
at the unseen dark

Come, take your rest
at the feast
where the greatest
and the least
are welcome here

No fine clothes
Just an open ear
A willingness to hear
Words echoed by a loving God
of His love
for you

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