Psalm 50

"The Lord, the Mighty One, is God,
and he has spoken;
he has summoned all humanity
from where the sun rises to where it sets.
From Mount Zion, the perfection of beauty,
God shines in glorious radiance.
Our God approaches,
and he is not silent.
Fire devours everything in his way,
and a great storm rages around him."
-Psalm 50:1-3

I didn't realize this section...would be the reading today...and slight freakish how the poem I wrote reflected that.

Who am I?
Seriously.
I have spent so much time being sick, burned out, aching, feeling lost and depressed that it feels like I haven't seen my reflection...but when I look, I have no idea who is in the mirror looking back at me.

I feel such a longing hope.
In the midst of feeling such revulsion at myself.
What is the difference between conviction of the Spirit and self hatred?

Self hatred is an idol.
Proclaiming my knowledge and will equal to Yours.
Where as I want to be obedient...not fall into this mindless slavery of self service.
Crying out words of hope that are not hope.
Just false ideas.

It's all a blended mix.
I'm so reluctant to speak.
But then I do speak.
And feel like such a hypocrite.
I am nothing but broken and in need of You.

Once again, as always, I am in need of Your love.
To be rescued from myself.
From the false ideas and treasures I drown myself in.
Just wanting hope.
But not knowing how to ask for help.
Once I've reached the bottom of my rope.

Jesus Christ, thank You for everything.
Everything.
This pain has a purpose beyond me.
I want to fall in Love again.
Please do not reject me.
Love me for me.

Never leave me here.
Pull me, carry me, drag me and hole my hand.
But Love me for me.
Every day as I struggle as I live, love, hurt and breath.
Carry me, strengthen me and never let me go.
I love You.
So much.
So much.

Faith Stranger Than Fiction

Waves beat across the shore,
birds are crying
and we're holding back tears.
Seeing your dreams dashed to pieces
sending this mournful aching
through my chest,
hearts filled with this fear.

Messiah born in Bethlehem,
wearing thorns
and splinters in Your skin,
this blood You spilled
with all my sins that you bore,
what foolishness is this?
In all of this,
my shame is all I have,
this life profane
and this is how grace will begin?

This foolishness saving my life
burning in my soul,
a fire to my bones
as I lay in wait,
on this shore of broken dreams
naught that I can own,
just this regret
and a scream,
a need to be redeemed.

"We're all trapped in a maze of relationships
Life goes on with or without you
I swim in the sea of the unconscious
I search for your heart, pursuing my true self"