I'd like to turn the other cheek.
And take every hit.
Oh, but I am weak.
And in that dead spot, my God is strong.
And I wonder if I had listened better,
Would the pain have gone on this long?

I start to think I know nothing.
I still think this, if we're being honest.
Like I am gasping for His truth,
Drowning in a sea of carnal knowledge.
It is not about you,
or I
Or even college.
But all the ways He speaks the proof
of the truths I do not want to acknowledge.

I am broken,
like a needy, desperate youth.
Crying for His calmness.
Jesus,  I need you.
I pray I see this through-
Fearful of becoming fallen.

Be still my rebellious, rambunctious heart.
For you often beat too fast for your own good,
when you haven't the first clue at how to start.

Be still and know, my soul, the voice of God.
For it is still and soft...just a whisper
Because he is close, and I am awed.

Be still my judgement, you shouldn't have to move at all.
You should know your place is for thy self.
You needn't be in use for others, this is not your call.

Be still my understanding, for you are lesser than the understanding of God.
You have a narrowed perspective.
But I am only human, a sinner, and this understanding I have is flawed.

We're on the other side.
With blessing and permission
We begin each stride.
Someone should paint you in your beauty.
Other than me painting portraits in my mind.
You are so achingly beautiful,
every time I remember you I cry.
And I think about things I shouldn't,
like children and being a wife.
And I long that you would approve it,
anywhere and anytime.
I pray that God Himself could do it,
but we'll only see evidence in His time.
I will just keep loving you through this,
every time you're in or out
of the sight of my eyes.