There was a sound in my ear
Threading its way inside,
Maneuvering to the center, near
My heart to chide, to chide

Me for heeding another voice
Whose questions craved an answer,
Always amid surrounding noise,
The familiar sound was always there.

It was the ancient garden query,
“Has God said? Is God even there?”
The questions make us mortals weary.
For we see the answers everywhere.

But then that other voice prevailed,
“Why are you here?” it inquired.
To know the weight of glory veiled
By rebel strategies inspired.

To magnify and celebrate the master
Craftsman who made me like him,
His words shape me like a pastor
Filling mind and soul to the brim.

That’s the precision of catechism—
A voice that challenges the atmosphere
We breathe each day through the prism
Of this world’s dark, hopeless drear.

O, the sounding in my ear, in my ear
Of a word so dense with reconciliation—
A word from a redeemer’s lips so dear,
The catechism of my salvation.