How they ache inside of me - protruding through my shell - functioning as though lifeless yet alive enough to feel the sorrow.
Repentance is a gift and we numb ourselves to paralysis.
But the pain murmurs deeply and quietly beneath my facade where I claim Lovesickness with boldness.
But I am not Lovesick any more, dear sir. To love and yearn for it can only come out of tasting and seeing the joy that might be set on the horizon.
I haven't tasted in a while. I've forgotten what I once burned for.
I beseech you then, dear sir... to breathe life upon these broken bones. Could they stand again? Could they dance again? Could they fly again?
Daddy, can I hope again? Can I love again? I cry out to you in my season of despair. Show your voice. Where is my song? Come bless my broken bones, Papa. Heal me.
1 comments:
I was praying for the same thing the other day... When will He come, when will my true Love come and embrace me and breath life into my bones... and then I hear a sweet whisper in my spirit and He is saying:"I'm already here my beloved!" =)
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