Psalm 45:1

I haven't been working with my blog much lately, but that doesn't mean I haven't been writing.  Based on what I have been through in the past few months, I feel like I can really relate to King David's psalms - especially the ones in which he is crying out to a God he can't feel or hear.  He is never unsure of the existence of God, or even of that God's love, perfect will, or strength.  Rather, he is acutely aware of his own imperfections before that God, of his own failures and those of the people around him.  Inspired by those words, I wrote.  I had the opportunity to share this as yet unnamed poem with the congregation at North Church last weekend, and I wanted to share it here, too.  If there were people who needed to hear it in the small group I was with on Saturday, then surely there must be many more who need to read it, and who have access to this site. 

God, where did you go? Can't you hear me anymore?
I am crying out at the top of my lungs -
My prayers couldn't possibly be louder.
Don't stop your ears to me now, Lord.
No one else is listening.
I am utterly alone in my sorrow.
At dawn and at dusk it haunts me.
It is like a wild animal closing in for the kill.
Emotions control me.
I am their puppet, a slave to bitterness and heartbreak.
Through my tears I see those who were once my close friends
Laugh and talk and commune with you.
That door seems closed to me now.
I see their joy as through dusty windows -
Outside, looking in,
But shut out entirely from happiness.
When I consider the days I knew so lately,
Days of peace, of hope and great wonder,
I come before your throne.
I am broken and beaten.
I plead for the return of my joy.
I cry out, Lord, I'm shouting!
Compensation for my struggles!
Retribution for my pain!
I ache, I weep, I lay dying here,
Bled dry of my own solutions,
Of tears, of time.
I am a cracked shell of who I was
And who you called me to be,
Dust crushed under the feet of those who do not understand me.
And yet you, Lord,
Breather of life into man,
Speak no words,
Whisper no apology as you raise me,
Gently lifting my face to meet yours.
You hold my trembling hands
As you help me to stand, to walk,
Like a child taking hesitant steps.
Do not hide your face from me again, Lord,
I cry.
Without a word you speak to me,
Softly in my heart,
And I know it is I who hid from you,
Rejecting the promises you laid before me,
Simply because they were yet unseen.
I should turn away again, this time in shame, oh, God,
Because of all my imperfections.
But you keep me in your tender gaze,
Aware of my sins, my stains,
Loving me still,
And waiting for our eyes to meet again.