I Wish I Was A Psalmist Like David

I was wishing this all this weekend while I was on the island because my heart just had so much to say. So last night after a failed attempt at holiness, my heart just burst and this is what came out of the pen I was using…

You tell me that I am loved,
You tell me that I am Yours.
You tell me that I have been made holy through Your sacrifice.

My heart knows the truth —
or maybe just my mind knows it?
And my heart longs to know.
My heart yearns to know
that love,
that belonging,
that holiness.

My heart is kept beating
by the hope for righteousness;
for the chance at freedom.

You tell me that Your love covers my sins,
and that Your grace sets this sinner free.
You tell me that You are never far away,
but always close to this weary heart.

But around my heart is a wall of steel.
Around my calloused and scarred
and bruised and ugly and faintly beating heart,
there is a tower of “don’t get too close.”

Around this sorry excuse for a heart is barbed wire,
and land mines,
and snipers,
and ticking time bombs.

Around this ugly, beat up heart are tests of Your love.
Make it through,
and I know You’re true.

My heart longs for You to break through
these walls and barriers and traps.
Won’t You break through?
Won’t You flood the gates?
Won’t You run through the mine fields for me?
Won’t You fight for my heart?
Won’t You be the God You claim to be?

The Saving God?
The Healing God?
The Loving God?
The I’ll-Do-Anything-To-Make-You-Mine God?

But aren’t You that God?
The I’ve-Already-Done-It-All God?
The I’ve-Already-Saved-You God?
The I’ll-Heal-You-If-You-Let-Me God?
The I-Gave-You-Life-Even-Though-I-Knew-You-Would-Turn-Away-From-Me-So-I-Could-Die-For-You God?

You ARE that God.
And since You are that God,
I am a selfish kid in a sandbox
trying to build my towers and walls out of grains.
And since You are that God,
I am just a lousy girl.

But since You are that God,
I am not lousy,
or just a girl,
or just a kid,
or just selfish;
But since You ARE that God,
I am worth something.
I have value.
I have meaning.

And since You have already
fought for my ugly, beaten, broken,
bruised, crushed, sad, miserable,
barely beating heart…

I am free. I am loved.
I am holy, in some weird way that I can’t explain.
You have set me free;
You have spoken love into my heart,
and Your Spirit dwells in me,
making me holy — and Your temple.

And You LOVE me. Oh,
how You love me.

And since You’ve already done
Your part,
I am left to do mine.
You’ve already done all the dirty work;
now I’ve just got to move forward.
With Your help.
Step by step.
Moment by moment.

Never alone.
Never unloved.
Never unwanted.
Never unholy.
Never unrighteous.
Never afraid.
Never abandoned.
Never forgotten.

And so I must push on,
because You hold my hand;
because You will never leave or forsake me.
because You love me.
And so I do.
I move forward.
I keep hoping,
keep loving,
keep trusting,
keep going.

And the walls crumble a little bit each day,
eroded by Your love,
like the rocks of the shore are pounded away
by waves.
And Your delicate fingers
tenderly disarm my explosive soul —
all my land mines and ticking time bombs
and ready-and-waiting snipers.
And the barbed wire melts under the grace
that You rain down on me, the holiness that You fill me with.

And my ugly, broken, dismantled,
barely beating heart begins to pound;
it pulses blood through my veins,
free to beat as hard as it will.
And my heart is alive,
and You gently shave off the callouses,
You peel back the tough steel,
and the cacophony turns into a beautiful harmony —
my heart and Yours, beating together;
my steps and Yours, perfectly paced.

And Your love rains down,
and reigns in me,
and somewhere along the road there is a handsome new life
where You have made everything new,
and everything beautiful.

My heart hinges on every moment,
and my breath hangs on every second
until that day when You come
back to call me Home.