Invisible

Our God is the God of hidden things
When I am in my secret place
Or in the crowd, calling out
When I am on the stage, hidden behind my costume
He sees me
He knows me
With God there is no Anonymous
No Vail
No Invisible Man

The heavy burden of secret sorrows
Press down on us
I laugh to hide the tears
I smile to hide the pain
I know the act all too well

Our friends walk through us
We are not people, but objects
Symbols
Even my enemies have forgotten me

The pit of sin has trapped us
I lie bruised and bleeding in the darkness
In fear, I struggle to hide myself
Like a middle-aged man
Trying in vain to hide a bald spot under too little hair
And not even fooling himself

We pretend
And yet the burden remains
We long to be found
Or perhaps find ourselves

Our God is the God of mysteries
Confused in the darkness
Or in the crowd, crying out
When I am on the stage, hiding behind my mask
He remembers me
He loves me