I wrote this poem from an overflowed prayer. I was trying to put words to why I felt ill-equipped to be a missionary. Why I felt ill-equipped to be praying for revival here in Scotland, knowing that the impression to pray for it is so strongly felt in my heart that I can't expect to pray and not be moved to action by it. I confess that I've struggled to get on my knees to pray for the Spirit to move as He has in bygone years because I am scared of what He may call me to do. How selfish can I be?
This poem is an attempt to come to terms with the fact that it has nothing to do with how I feel, or what I am comfortable with. My flesh with always battle with the Spirit and my thoughts will always battle with my prayers. What matters is Jesus. What He has done for us, what He is doing in us, what He chooses to do through us. Our imperfection is at its greatest when we think that we cannot be used by the One who not only created us, but made us in His image. Our lives are the most useless when we convince ourselves of this lie.
This poem is an attempt to come to terms with the fact that it has nothing to do with how I feel, or what I am comfortable with. My flesh with always battle with the Spirit and my thoughts will always battle with my prayers. What matters is Jesus. What He has done for us, what He is doing in us, what He chooses to do through us. Our imperfection is at its greatest when we think that we cannot be used by the One who not only created us, but made us in His image. Our lives are the most useless when we convince ourselves of this lie.
I don't have a conclusion...I'm not even sure this poem is finished yet. But I do know that I will always feel ill-equipped yet, in His infinite wisdom, He still chooses to use me. He still chooses to rejoice over me with singing, call me His beloved, send me out to share His Gospel, be His child...I am so unworthy to be loved by a God so amazing!
New Mercies
You are my first love; You rejoice over me and call me
To You as you awaken me and remind me that
The portrait of who I am is made in
Your image.
You ask me to love you with all of my heart,
You call me to serve and honor you
Completely, with a joyful and reckless
Abandon.
Yet, when the morning dawns, and mercies are new
Like the sun pouring over the horizon
Its dance across the sky mingles with
My flesh.
As the dance continues, I see myself fall into step
With old habits and thoughts that do not uplift
But tear down and leave a path of shadowed
Regret.
And when the sun’s dance sets, I am left in wonder that
You would daily love this imperfect mess,
the one who so willingly turns from You to
The world.
I am comforted by Your words, written on my heart as a
Brazen promise of restoration. I am encouraged
by Your peace that strengthens me to remember
Your mercies.
You have given me the only True Salvation that takes me
From death and darkness to life and Light. Your body
was broken that I might awaken to Your love and
Your grace.
And in those times I look at sunset and not sunrise, reminded
That I have come from so dark a place, it is Your Son
that shines brightly as the morning dawn and
Awakens me.
Your gentle calling never fails to turn my ears
To your voice. I am captivated by the whisper
Of avid concern: a command as personal as
A love letter.
Because You are my first love; You rejoice over me and call me
To You as you awaken me and remind me that
The portrait of who I am is made in
Your image.
I cry to you and ask to let these words, this song, this psalm
May my heart be words poured out as a prayer
As worship and praise, adoration and
Overwhelming love.
My plea.
My hope.
My heartbeat.
My change.
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