We are exiles in the broken world, slowly following the Lord home.
He found us and said, Come to me, all who are weary and heavy leaden.
My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.
And we believed and rejoiced as he washed away crimson sin.
But soon things stop being easy;
no shining future in sight—
only a rugged wilderness, and all we can see of our savior
is a pierced hand dragging us forward.
Then one day bruised and weary, we stumble into a garden:
a fragment left of Eden and the Lord says, Grow here.