“Make me hear joy and gladness,
That the bones You have broken may rejoice.” Psalm 51:8
This heart of mine
keeps giving in
to hosts of sin
that live within.
I rage without.
I lie and doubt,
steal and kill,
cheat and hate,
blaspheme Your name,
and fornicate.
My heart grows cold;
my bones wax old
with grief; nights spent
with tears, eyes rent.
Your Word cuts through
my thoughts, my words,
the things I do;
my sins are known to You.
Your Word speaks, “Peace!
Be still, the storm
of sin and death
and hearts war-torn.”
Behold!
Your Victor
does appear
with prints of nails
and scar of spear.
He bids me eat
the Victor’s meal:
the body broken
for me to heal.
He bids me drink
from Victor’s cup:
the blood He shed
to raise me up.
You break me down
to build me up.
How sweet to drink
this bitter cup!
My sins confessed;
my heart at rest.
What joy …
this blessed brokenness!
Poem by Teacher Chad Seybt • Okabena, Minnesota