Dear Lord, when days turn gray

Long before noon, and my hope

Fades, my dreams moved to a tomb–

Be then all my peace.

See my deepest need.

Restore in me the joy You bring

While I dwell on this lovely thing:

The thorns which pierced Your brow–

The same that’ve cursed the ground–

Have lost their power now.

Lord of my salvation,

Jesus, King of Heaven,

Christ, my manna given–

Son of my Creator,

Of good, there’s none higher,

God who came down, nearer–

Have Your deepest patience,

Mercy, and forgiveness

On my total weakness:

Me–the one who needs You

(A Blood Shield of life-true)–

Sinner, seeking life-new.

Dipped my bread in the same dish, Lord,

And could have hung from a tree–

If You had not, by grace,

Kept that offer of silver from me.

So let me not rejoice

In another’s dreadful fate

But mourn the aweful cost

Of a “friend’s” priceless mistake…

And weep also-besides

For Your tender kindness, free.

Creator God who stitches stars

Into the nighttime canvas:

Shine on me

And make me be

One who, tomorrow,

Displays Your illumination,

Somehow, a bit more gloriously.

Not so they will ooo and ah

At me, the tiny shell;

No, but that they

Would take their place

In Your redemption story.

Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Bring to my heart Your flood,

Though really just one drop

Of blood

Would do–

To make my conscience clean,

Secure my way to God,

And help me crave the good,

Which–yes–

Is You.

Lord, when we pray in faith,

What’s it sound like to You?

Like the wail of a baby,

Or the dance of the dew,

Or the wind through the pine trees,

Or the trill of a flute?

Or something altogether different

Because Your listening, so magnificent,

Hears Your Spirit who translates

So that our words join Heaven’s symphony?

You told me to knock, God, and seek earnestly,

And promised You’d then, with what’s good, meet my needs.

But there, in the midst of my knocking, I thought

Of how I’m not really the First to have knocked.

For You first loved my heart, saw me in my plight,

Came to request entry on my darkest night.

So my need–the greatest–already was met

When You entered in me, restored life to give.

And now when I, in faith, should seek, knock, request,

Help me to remember: You always know best.

The sun is shining brightly, Lord, outside;

It drove away the clouds so early-dark.

There’s nowhere for the early cold to hide–

And yet, it still returns in wind-waves, hard.

Behind this wall, I only feel the warmth

And smile at the brightness of the view–

Until I need to open up the door

To heed the knock of someone passing through.

Then, just one blast of breeze will make me gasp

And shiver, wishing I had grabbed my coat.

I will, in frantic motion, rush right back

To that safe seat I occupied before.

Now let me be reminded from this scene

How You my Shelter–warm–have always been.