The one whom God calls may often walk alone,
Treading the quiet, winding paths of purpose,
Tracing the rugged roads of destiny.
There are bends he must navigate,
Crossroads where no human hand can guide him,
Where silence is his only companion.
Through the wilderness, he journeys,
Pressing on through deserts of dryness,
Enduring the long, unyielding nights.
Seasons stretch endlessly before him,
Yet within, a transformation unfolds.
Outwardly, he seems frail and weary,
Yet within, he is fortified
Sturdy, resilient, built for the calling,
Shaped for endurance.
When you see him, do not weep,
Do not mourn his solitude.
Instead, take a lesson from his steps.
For what seems like loneliness
Is the molding of a man by God’s own hands.
Today, he walks alone,
A figure in the shadows.
Heads turn in quiet pity,
But in a moment, just a breath
Like the rising sun,
He will rise, he will shine,
A beacon, a light to the world.
For he was never truly alone.
