Abba, Father,
My fragile heart is broken.
To You my grief is not a bother,
And so I come with words that can’t be spoken.
For You alone
Are everything I need.
Though for a time my heart may groan,
I will not wander from the path You lead;
For whether rest or test,
I know Your way is best.

Hebrews 4:14-16 Seeing then that we have a great high priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession. For we have not a high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.

Romans 8:15 For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father.

This poem was prompted by a true-life difficulty happening in real time. I love the fact that we can call God Abba, which is Hebrew for Daddy. This is a very personal expression, a noun of address, but also a term of endearment. I very much wanted to use it in my poem, but it didn’t fit the iambic structure required of the Ercil form. So guess what? I used it anyway. I think it’s okay to break the rules once in a while—in poetry, anyway.

October 15, 2017 ~ Written in response to Linda Luna’s 10-line Poem Challenge: Ercil
© 2017 Angela Umphers Rueger – All Rights Reserved

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