Keep me safe, O God,
for I have come to you for refuge.
I said to the Lord, “You are my Master!
Every good thing I have comes from you.” Ps. 16:1-2
That spinning drivel of my life – all that entertains and glitters.
Sharp shards in a nightly twister
Bump and bruise, beat and blind me.
I curl fetal in the midst of the storm.
Is there no one to save?
Things I guarded, that brought delight
Blown, I fall from one winsome height.
Where to plant my feet, just one more time?
To ground myself on anything known.
I’ve been filled by people, studies.
Taught good words, preached at, sung to.
But all my peace mysteriously flung to
Hills unscalable, heights unknown.
Oh that this hour soaked with the sweat of prayer
May reach your ears. Call to your Spirit.
Oh heart of my King!
Draw near to rescue me from these rote feelings
Of less than beauty, short of hope, less than peace.
Be all my Jesus. Please be attentive to my pen.
The only seemingly working piece of me.
Voice drowned out, heart a smoldering heap.