Crumbs

You came to heal a broken world,
and broken you've become.
I come before you begging, Lord,
to share in mercy's crumbs:
Give me the hope I'm longing for,
though healing never comes.

My God, how foolish, but how bold—
you didn't count the cost
but left the ninety-nine in fold
and set out for the lost.
At least you're with me in the cold,
though all the gates are locked.

So here we sit outside the doors
like beggars at the feast
that others all go streaming towards
while we are left in grief.
Yes, I believe—you know it, Lord—
but help my unbelief.

And while the guests all eat their fill,
you bless and break these crumbs
as I pray for a miracle
I know will never come.
O Shepherd, give me courage still
to say, Your will be done.

Woman baking bread (circa 2200 BC); Louvre By Rama, CC BY-SA 3.0 fr, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=69938567