I’ve not written in a while. A lot is going on. Some good, some frustrating, and some just plain perturbing. Improvements in the relationship with my step-daughters, but not in the realm of this world. I have work, thankfully, and we may qualify to get our mortgage recalculated to something more realistic. But our van needs major repairs, as does the roof, taxes are due! Our neighbor’s house was repossessed. Rich’s son and daughter-in-law had made plans to buy a place, and were just waiting to move in, when the owner, with no advance notice sold the place to someone else. So now they are living with her parents… I won’t even go into how disconcerting we find the news and policies being made in Washington DC….

This morning, as I prayed, I wrote this poem. I hope that it will be encouraging to you… at the end of the day… as I look at everything, I am reminded again and again, how temporary this life is, and how thankful I am that I have a Father in Heaven who loves me. He remains in charge!

Heart Cry

The same prayer
A thousand different ways
The prayer that was hidden
by a longing
I am stripped bare.

Reduced to Job’s ashes
the war rates unseen
the enemy clawing at my soul
did my Lord a favor
reduced me to prayer
soul stripped bare.

and the shame
the regrets
the guilt
are all my own undoing.

Lord, do you her the enemy
He laughs as once He did You,
“Where is Your God?”

His minions stone me
with their laughter
barbed with fear and doubt,
Your people are scarred
blinded by this world,
brainwashed by sin.

Lord, where is Your glory?
Will I ever see Your face?
Will I ever hear more than a rebuke
so deserved?
Is there any “well done”
for me?

I am running the gauntlet
and there is no end in sight
only more buffeting, beatings
brutal as the hooks
dig into my flesh
into my soul.

O Lord have mercy,
for the sake of Your glory,
I want to see your face,
I want to hear more than a rebuke
so well deserved,
I want a well done
for You.

I have been crowned
with Your thorns
by-dipped in blood
running down my face
seeping into my soul
stripped bare
clothed in Your suffering.

Blinded by blood, I see
this is not just about me…

O Lord, help me to see Your glory,
for there I see Your face
and hear more than a rebuke.
Undeserved, I hear,

30 July 2009, 8:30 am