When The Road Breaks Open

 When the Road Breaks Open

You pack your bag with a shaking hand

A congress calling, a promise you planned

The heart says go, the mind says wait

Bills on the table, time running late

You swear this time you’ll make it through

You told the friends, you said you’d be true

But the road don’t care what vows you said

It throws you steel that leaves you dead

A car on the lift, the clock runs fast

“No parts till Monday,” they say at last

Two hundred dollars, that’s all you’ve got

And the retreat’s fading right on the spot

Now comes the moment no one sees

Not faith in words, but bent-knee pleas

You sit alone, your chest caved in

Not asking to win — just not to give in

Your heart don’t pray with fancy lines

It cracks and leaks between the whys

“I promised them… I wanted You…

I don’t know how, but help me through”

No deals, no strength, no clever play

Just truth that burns the self away

And right there where the hope feels dead

Something moves you never led

Three minutes pass — no more than that

The shop door opens, a turn of fact

The owner walks like it’s no big thing

Says, “Found the part… won’t charge a thing”

No labor bill, no reason why

Just mercy dropped from the open sky

An hour later you’re tearing in

Like a soul reborn, scraped thin

You don’t arrive clean, proud, or whole

You come in fire, you come in soul

Not because you were strong or smart

But because you asked with a broken heart

This is the road to every congress gate

Not perfect plans, but crushed-down weight

Obstacles stacked till you finally see

You don’t come by will — you come by plea

The trick ain’t courage, grit, or might

It’s turning to Him in the darkest night

When nothing works and you can’t pretend

That’s when the help is sent

So if the road starts falling apart

If life leans hard and splits your heart

Don’t curse the blocks, don’t turn away

That’s the door — that’s when you pray

Because the Creator waits right there

Where the heart breaks clean of self-care

And every congress begins that way

With nothing left — and a cry that stays

Reward That Hurts Like Truth

Reward That Hurts Like Truth

I said I want no reward, I swear it’s true,

Yet every nerve asks, “What’s in this for you?”

The will to receive hides behind holy clothes,

Quotes the sages while tightening its nose.

I worked and I worked and expected a sign,

A taste of the Light, some proof I was fine,

But all I received was a mirror so clear,

It showed me the beast I carried for years.

The ego got clever, it learned how to pray,

How to give lip service while steering my way,

It said, “You’re righteous, look—everyone sees,”

While feeding itself on respect and ease.

The whole world applauds, says, “You serve God well,”

But inside I’m rented, still serving myself,

A servant of comfort, of honor and gain,

Calling it Torah, disguising the chain.

Then came the fall—no warning, no sound,

From heaven to trash heap, face in the ground,

No sense of descent, no shame, no fear,

Just pleasure dressed up as “life” right here.

Dead don’t feel dead, they don’t ask for air,

They don’t miss the King, they don’t know He’s there,

I lived like a cat in the garbage of mind,

Chasing warm scraps, completely blind.

And then—without reason, without a demand,

A breath from Above pulled me out by the hand,

Not with reward, not with sweetness or glow,

But with one sharp gift: the truth of my low.

Now I see pain was never the crime,

It was payment in advance for a higher time,

The hurt was a ladder I couldn’t detect,

Each rung carved from self-love I learned to reject.

The Creator is gentle, unbearably kind,

He lets me fall only to open my eyes,

He kills me just enough so I’ll want to live,

Then resurrects me with nothing to give.

No fruit grows fast, no soul comes cheap,

First comes the drought, the hunger, the sleep,

But even the barren, the wasted, the dry,

Were planted to bloom by His careful design.

So let the ego scream, bargain, and plead,

Let it curse the pain and demand its fee,

I’ll stand with the help I never could earn,

And bless every fall I was given to learn.

Because reward isn’t pleasure, applause, or light,

It’s seeing the truth and still choosing the fight,

And serving Him starts the moment I know—

I can’t serve Him at all on my own.

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