I've been writing poetry again, spoken word, words again. I've just been writing down my prayers and by God's gift it turns into something like this. I've written better stuff - and I hope that I'll eventually add onto this prayer because I don't think it's finished. I just needed to pray this out loud today. I truly believe in the good grace of the gospel and this poem is inspired by Augustine's confessions and prayers. Augustine has this way of talking with God that embodies the human spirit of what it means to have a divine conversation with a Holy and Loving God. There are seasons where I am unsure and so here's my prayer about it:
Remind me of your promises to me. Lord I see them - the burden seems too big to bear. But is it not you that says “my yoke is easy and my burden is light?” Why does my soul take no comfort in those words? I am not a burden to you Jesus.
Why do I fear that you will take away what is good? But these goods are only good because my only good is you, my God. Remind me of that day in and day out. You say to me “I myself am your only good” but my heart that is our home is cluttered with the showered gifts that come from you, not organized or neatly tied up, gifts hoarded over time that should’ve been donated long ago. You say to me “I myself am your only good” but my mind is in the attic running races back to the traces of memory of the hurt I perceived you gave me - to the nights I have cried out to you “where are you” and was met with the cobwebs of time, dust sitting on unanswered questions, mould growing on my impatience, bitterness seeping into the trimmings and the framings of this house and Lord I feel like I’m falling apart. You say to me “I myself and your only good” but my soul is in the yard too afraid to enter inside knowing how cluttered and broken it is inside our home - too embarrassed to let you in, to invite you into the place we had built together.
Jesus, they say you were a carpenter by trade, but this home which is my heart, is too small for you, so enlarge it. They say you knew how to build things with wood, so how did you frame and forget my evils and sins, nail them to a tree and then proceed to build a home which is this heart for you to live in and love me even more?
Lord, i have no resolve for this prayer. I’m left with the anxieties of my mind, too afraid to pick up the pieces because God I am unsure. I have seen you pick up my falling frame and mend these bones you have made and that I have broken. So I hope so sing soon and rejoice yet again. I am unsure about many things right now king Jesus, but I am sure that your assured love for me has never left me, and so may this heart that is our home be framed with the lovely memories of you, may it be cleaned because you already washed it down with the crimson cries of your love for me, may it be an invitation to my soul to lay in intimacy with you because you are not embarrassed to be seen with me. Lord, I love you. I am sure you will meet me. Please meet me