Lord, please help me
You haunt me when I’m not seeking
I’m walking but I’m not breathing
You would be talking but I’m just sleeping
and I can’t sleep, I’m believing
You can’t be
still for me, or even with me
I’m sorry
I can’t seem to speak, I’m worried
and filled with self-pity, silent warring
with Your sovereignty
when I’m long-faced, feeling worthless
dirty and left out on purpose
I purposed to follow You
but I’ve produced a crop swallowed by thorns I didn’t foresee, these cares
I didn’t care for before are choke-holding me
I’m close to broken, or close to bitter
close to calling out, or close to Winter
with these fading affections my soul withers, and my body isn’t much better, I’m getting older, and
I can’t do all I want to do, and I don’t know
how much of my feeling of failure is due to fear or natural limitations,
my unbelief or Your painful providence,
I’m sure that’s a false dichotomy,
lines right now are blurry
I feel lost like nothing has come of these years,
I clock in to clock out to type on screens that scream: “Get Out!”
But rent is due, and water too, and all the loans I regret now from school,
and there’s the laundry and the food,
sleep in between, then repeat
wishing I could live out some of those dreams
I can’t chase my passions and starve
so maybe I was meant to be mindlessly in this routine with shackled feet and confused friends and family asking why I don’t just fly.
I’m trying to look to You, wait, why lie?
I’m trying to figure this out without You,
I don’t know why…just pride I assume, just lies I consume,
just cry out to You, I can’t.
I have to.
I’m horse and mule forced by a crucible’s bridle to draw near to You until doom no more looms over my eyes, I’m
desperate but resolute to be independent,
I’m just a fool, I need You to be my captain,
I crash this Titanic every time I’m not close to You,
and I know but doubt You’re not through,
know You’re not outside of this room,
know my only hope is that You won’t reject You,
So if I draw near tonight I won’t have excuses to impress You much,
just a Savior and His Spirit praying for this wretched soul, deaf and dumb
this child You so deeply love.
(Set to “Valtari” by Sigur Ros)
Stressed
