the busy streets of new york city
never brought a ring to my ear
i silently ordered a tea
with milk and no sugars
by pointing to it on the menu
the phone never rang
and the only conversation i had
was with myself
a loud mind and soul
mixed with a voice box
but no voice

nobody knows of thunder
but the threat of lightning
we didn't fall in awe of the sky
or talk loudly over pouring rain
our voices felt lonely
isolated in this atmosphere
white paper stayed blank
and i know i wanted to write
but i could not hear my thoughts
over the silence that loomed overhead

a world filled with noise
and expression and love
will never win in the fight
against silence
for ultimately it is in silence
that we blossom and make sound

the accuser shakes his finger at my face and whispers, “He’s not worth it. come with me and i will show you what pleasure is. don’t you want to see? don’t you want to live?”

but what i thought was pleasure brought me death. i drowned in all of the foolishness. i tried to swim back to the place i found grace but i found that i’ve become too weak and all of my strength has left. i can almost hear the enemy laughing in the distance–

“the only promise here is death”

but God reached out His hand from the heavens and reached for me
for me, for me–
He pulled me out of my misery,
and He said, “My love, enough. please stop chasing after lying lovers, after empty promises, after broken dreams, after sin. let Me be enough for you. lean on Me, i know you’re weary.”

i could feel His heart breaking. i could almost see the warm glow of His eyes with love pouring out into mine. there is something so beautiful about a Father who faithfully reaches for His child no matter how far away she has run from Him.

He never tires
i’ve run so many miles, but i could never outrun Him
i’ve spent so much time screaming at Him about my own heart,
of how it aches, of how it hurts
but He was still there, patiently waiting for my return

“don’t you see I Am the cure?
without Me you can do nothing
without Me you can do nothing
without Me you can do nothing”

i hear Him saying, over and over
almost sad
almost begging

sometimes all i can do is sit on the floor with my head in between my knees, with sobs rocking my body like an earthquake
because sometimes all i can think of is how heavy the price was, how precious grace truly is, how much we don’t deserve it

sometimes all i can think of is You on that cross, ****** and naked and bruised, and that was me on the ground yelling curses at You
telling You to save Yourself and come down,
with a hammer and Your blood on my hands

but You loved me through it all,
through my rebellion, through my sin, through the fall
and i don’t know what else to do but let my walls come crumbling down and give You my heart, no matter how broken
my breath, no matter how shaky
my life, no matter how messy–

“I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care,” You exclaim, interrupting my apologies and my excuses
i can hear joy in Your voice, i can hear anticipation
“don’t you see this is what I wanted? don’t you know what I can do with a heart that’s surrendered, no matter how broken?”

how passionate His voice, how warm, how kind
He wraps me up in an embrace like the father did with his prodigal child
He smiled, He smiled at me, and His joy was pouring out
as if i did nothing to hurt Him, as if every wrong thing i’ve done had been cast into the sea and forgotten about

even after all of it, Lord?
after all of my sins?
do You still love me after everything?

*“daughter, don’t you know how much love I have for you in My heart?
daughter, don’t you see these holes in My hands?”

Jerusalem, O Jerusalem
After all these many years
Your city streets are still flooded deep
With Rachel's salty tears

Crying for her children
As any mother does in love
Will mankind ever find
The peace we seek in God

Jerusalem, O Jerusalem
Can you see the coming storm
It's not too far off in the distance
The way that things are going

I pray for you daily
That you heed salvation's sound
And that in God's grace and mercy
May your heart be found

Jerusalem, O Jerusalem
I feel your hurt and need
As the tears of Rachel
Still flood your city streets

He climbs the steps slowly,
For he’s an old man.
There’s a bench at the top of the hill.
He sits, and he rests, and he listens,
But for the birds, the air is quite still.
He searches for life on the hillside,
The pheasant and foxes are gone,
But it’s springtime, and flowers are blooming,
And the deer, and the squirrels, carry on.

He closes his eyes,
Reminiscing,
When they lay on the grass by the tree.
A butterfly floats past her tombstone,
It’s not the living he came here to see.
There’s a bittersweet patch on the hillside
And he makes a bouquet for her grave.
He places it softly beside her,
Then descends, with barely a wave.

There’s a lifetime of love
In his actions,
Now, eternity calls out his name
Their earth-life together was Heaven,
Without her it isn’t the same.
So mourn not for the departed,
Save your prayers for those living alone.
Request that God grant them safe journey,
On their trip, up the hill, to His home.
Phil Lindsey, August 7, 2016

You
                     either
                   grow or
                 depreciate.