The Gift Hidden in the Complaint

Inspired by Rabash, Article No. 38 (1985)

My body came with questions today,

And tried to turn my heart away.

“Why give yourself? What will you gain?

Why choose a road of work and pain?”

I heard its words, I felt their weight,

The doubts that stood before the gate.

But something gentle stirred inside,

A truth no argument could hide.

“My faithful body, I hear your plea,

You only seek what's good for me.

But there's a joy you cannot see,

A love that grows when I give freely.”

You ask me why I should bestow,

When there's no profit I can show.

And in that question I can find

A chance to rise above my mind.

For faith is not the lack of sight,

Nor closing eyes against the night.

It's choosing love when reasons cease,

And finding in surrender peace.

Each complaint reveals another place

Where self-love hides its familiar face.

And every place that comes to light

Becomes a vessel to make right.

And if I fall, and cannot rise,

And tears of failure fill my eyes,

I need not hide the truth I see,

For this reveals what's wrong in me.

I cannot change the heart alone,

Or turn to love by strength my own.

But from the depths, a prayer can start,

And reach the One who heals the heart.

“Creator, take this will of mine,

And teach it how with Yours to align.

Let every wish to take and own

Become a gift of love that's shown.”

And if I fall so far below,

I even lose the wish to grow,

May You awaken me once more,

To seek the love I sought before.

For nothing on this path is lost,

No honest tear, no hidden cost.

Even the hours I spent asleep

Can teach my heart what love must keep.

And now I see the body's cry

Was not a reason to deny,

But offered me a place to choose

The love that self-concern would lose.

The very doubts that made me grieve

Become the ground on which I cleave.

What once appeared to block my way

Becomes a reason now to pray.

So let the questions come again,

Through weary days and nights of pain.

I'll greet them not with bitter fear,

But with the knowledge You are near.

For correction isn't mine to claim,

Nor is perfection life's true aim.

My work is choosing, day by day,

To ask for strength to give away.

And through the friends, my heart will learn

To give the love I once would earn.

Their joy becomes my own desire,

Their needs the fuel of heaven's fire.

Until the will that lived to take

Begins to give for others' sake.

And every complaint that once arose

Becomes a door through which love flows.

For love does not demand I never fall,

But teaches me to turn to You through all.

And every time I choose to give again,

The heart finds purpose even in its pain.

The greatest gift was not that doubt would cease,

But that through doubt I learned the path to peace.

And what the body called a sacrifice,

The soul discovered was the gift of life.