The Lonely Road of the Called

The Lonely Road of the Called

The road of the called is a treacherous climb,
Where eternity whispers through the hands of time.
Where the crowds may applaud you, then leave you to bleed,
And the ones you would die for may question your creed.

For the call is not paved with the comforts of men,
Nor a promise that loneliness won’t visit again.
Sometimes God draws you out from the familiar and known,
Just to teach you that He is enough when alone.

You’ll be misunderstood when you speak what He’s shown,
And you’ll reap the cold silence where friendship had grown.
For the truth is a fire that not all will embrace,
And conviction can cost you a seat in a place.

Like a lighthouse that stands while the wild waters roar,
You may shine for the ships that won’t visit your shore.
You may warn them of rocks that their eyes cannot see,
Yet they’ll curse at the light that was meant to set free.

And like oil pressed from olives beneath crushing weight,
There are seasons of breaking that feel much like hate.
But the crushing has purpose, the pressure has place;
Some anointings are born in the depths of disgrace.

You’ll pray in the midnight with tears for a flame,
Wondering if heaven remembers your name.
You’ll pour out your soul till there’s nothing to give,
And still rise in the morning because others must live.

For the shepherd knows well what the wandering sheep feel,
And the wounded know wounds that no sermon can heal.
Sometimes those who are called to go searching for one
Must first learn how to walk when they walk with no one.

But remember, dear soul, when the path disappears,
When the silence grows louder than all of your fears:
The God who ordained you before you drew breath
Will not leave you forsaken in valleys of death.

For the fire that consumes you is not there to destroy,
And the pruning that hurts you is not heaven’s lack of joy.
The seed must lie buried where no eye can see,
Before breaking the darkness to grow into a tree.

So let them misunderstand you; let them question your flame.
Let them walk from the altar and forget your name.
You were never commissioned to make yourself known,
But to carry His presence wherever you’re thrown.

And when all of the voices have faded from view,
When the friends you once leaned on are no longer in reach,
There is One who still walks every mile beside you,
And His silence is never a sign He won’t speak.

For the road may be lonely, the nights may be long,
And your tears may fall where you must still be strong.
But the One who has called you will see your race through—
For before you were ever called, He already knew.

So walk on, weary pilgrim, though unseen you may be;
The same God who called you is still holding the key.
And though no human hand may reach out for your own,
You may walk this road lonely, but you’ll never walk alone.