Where can I put my stuff?
I need a place for my hopes and fears,
My television shows and craft beers,
My books and games and lusts and pain,
My car and wife and kids, all vain
Compared to the value of having
Nothing twixt me and God
Except a sheet of homelessspun.

I hate hate hate them all –
That’s right, isn’t it, if I love
God enough to make up for it?
He promises to give me back
An hundred-fold of what I lose,
Not that I need any of it.
A loaf of bread in a jug of wine,
and Thou, and Thou, and Thou…

I gave it all away, all the stuff
That filled my space and mind,
And found it all still in my heart,
Not clogging it, but the heartbeat,
The thing that actually gives life,
Put there for my salvation,
Not obstacles, but stepping-stones
And angel-wings to Heaven.