I long to cut myself to divert the pain from my soul. My heart is broken and my spirit crushed. The idea of death is bliss. The Lord to me is like bitter water, And a deserter in my time of need. I turn to Him, yet feel mocked. Acid eats my soul away, My heart bleeds from stabbing after merciless stabbing. My heart has no shield. I am hunched over from the great weight of burden upon me. I claim the Lord’s promises, only to be disappointed One callous time after another. For the first time since I’ve known Him, Profanity pours out of my mouth. I feel my heart hardening, Yet this time I’m too hurt to let it stop. My face pales as the life drains away in the strain. I nearly faint out of weariness; My flesh can’t take the punishment of my soul. If my flesh were beaten to a pulp, It wouldn’t compare to the ghastliness of this. I look at my eyes in the mirror and see a frightened animal. I can brush my hair, but I can’t hide the despair, Torment, agony, and anguish in my eyes. I call from my heart of hearts, “Papa!” Yet the pain remains, the stabbing continues. I don’t want pity from those around me; I want compassion. The Lord feels cold and indifferent to my yelps. Shrieks come from my mouth as the tears fall. I hit my heart to urge the pain to stop. I fall on my knees at the mercy of One who seems merciless. Oh that my broken spirit would be healed! My heart hardens against the Lord. Involuntary bitterness bites my soul like a viper. Such emptiness and loneliness makes me want to cry out in despair; Yet I know it will do no good. The Lord’s Almighty power becomes a weapon of the enemy against my mind; He has the power to heal, and yet does not. I desire what is not possible. I desire not to live, yet death holds no allure. I wish the spiritual realm would not exist, yet I do not want to live in the physical. Demons encircle me so that the Lord cannot be seen for who He is. Resentment begins to fester in a mire of self-pity. The tormenting whispers hasten “Curse Him! Curse Him! Curse Him!” Deception seems as truth; the Word seems false. Disappointments, weaknesses, and fears hound my senses. The enemy has stolen peace and joy; Now the unspeakable seemingly happens: Hope itself is quashed in heart-wrenching agony. Desire for the Lord is cut off; future ministry holds no appeal. My manipulated heart embraces dark deception: ‘It’s not worth it!’ it cries. I groan under a burden that crushes my being. I try giving my yoke to the Lord, but it is seemingly refused. As my soul receives crushing blow after crushing blow, I murmur ‘I give in’. And then a heavenly beam of light pierces the foul choking smoke as He speaks: ‘But I don’t’. In a stern tenderness in which only Christ can speak, I hear: You are to look to Me in hope, not analyze. You are to seek Me in faith, not worry. You are to adore Me in joy, not despair. Doubt is doubt, and I am God. Confusion is confusion, and I am God. Self is self and I am God. Be still and know that I am God.
Posted on: Tue, 12 Aug 2014 07:01:53 +0000