Psalm 63—My desires are bared before me like a knife. I am cut to ribbons.
God, you are my God. My feet have walked me to this wasteland. I never thought my life Would exhaust itself so soon. My desires are bared before me Like a knife. I am cut to ribbons. I have never seen so keenly My needs, my loves, my losses. My shambling stride Has failed, and I’ve fallen. I have found no water here, But in the dry and weary land, At the terminus of my waning strength, I have found you. I have seen your face Unveiled and bright as light. I have met a love that shatters Backward, past the glass promises That broke to bring me here, A kindness wide as life itself. So these cracked lips will learn again How to praise you. I will lift my hands, empty at last, To receive whatever you would give. It is enough. I am satisfied. I begin again. I am still in the waste, But I am singing. Now, I clutch the memory of you To my chest in the night watches, For you have been my help Before I knew to name you. Even now, this night is only the shadow Of your wings. I still sing. I cling With my whole life to the hand That has taken hold of me. Now, those loves and lovers Who would ruin me again Find no purchase here. May the earth take them, The grave swallow them, And jackals haunt the places They once crowed over and called their own. But as for me, God is my lot. All his promises to me are yes, And they fill my mouth like water.
Psalm 38—I chewed black thoughts like cracked bones and made a meal of my sin’s marrow.
God, in your anger, do not set me aside. I suffered the length of your chastening. Your arrows have fallen all around and in me. Your hand pressed me into the ground. You heaved my heart whole over. I am all raw wounds. My heart is scoured bright as brass— Abraded, burnished, blazing hot Under the blast of your wrath. My peace is choked Because I chewed black thoughts Like cracked bones and made A meal of my sin’s marrow. My wrongs have doubled back on me And I can’t bear them. My rot flesh hangs in strips. The fester stinks. All day, I shuffle through drifts of sorrow. My feet are bleeding in my shoes As I walk the long lanes of grief. My prayers fall in soft sift That drops to muddy slosh behind me. A fire has made a home in my flesh. I keep patting my chest to put it out, But the fever won’t quit. My bones are brittle as coral. My eyes shine like opals, And I hold my limbs with care As if they might snap off. I’m bound and bowed and brought low. My body bends to the ground As if I am already grinning down Into my grave. None of this is secret. It happens under the open face of heaven. You see me, Lord. You hear the long lament Singing out of me all day And through the black hours of night. Those friends I loved stand away. Even my brothers press their hands to their mouths And shake their heads. But those who want to hurt me draw near. Their thoughts are dark chasms, But their words are all Bright as knives and leave red ribbons In my mind when I remember them. I would fill my mouth with arguments And my ears with my own defense, But instead, I am deaf and stuttering and stunned. Lord, you know how I would trade My heart for any hope I could lay hands on. So set your silence on me. Staunch me, stop me, Hold me hard at bay. Give me the stillness that isn’t peace, But has the seeds of peace in it. You are the last word I’m waiting for. If you are not my defense, I have no defense. I know your answers start Before I know to ask. They take a long time And aren’t made of words, But of moments stacked One on another. I am ready to fall. My pain is set plainly before me. I can hardly hide it, Nor keep it a secret, Nor find the smallest, furtive, Fugitive minute to forget it. I didn’t know this is what I bargained for When I gathered my folly To my chest in great-armed heaps. Visit me even here, Lord. I want to begin again. Show me what is good Even if it makes this all the worse. Curb the joy of those Who rejoice when I fall. I will tell all my wrongs. I will hold nothing back. I will foreswear all the misbegotten loves That have made a home in my heart. Do not cast me off, but stay with me. Even now, rush to help me. Level out a rollicking, bracing, lavisher love. My chevalier in stride, have your way! Cast back black sorrow. Know no bounds. Breach and breast High over every hindrance. Show me what it feels like To be safe and saved.
Psalm 32—Lives I thought I’d lost honeycombed and hunched down like winter bees eating my heart's honey.
Innocence is a better world, but I Can hardly imagine the Lord keeps No count against me. I was bent double over My riddle days, wracked and walking The years of my life backward. Lives I thought I’d lost honeycombed And hunched down like winter bees Eating my heart's honey. I shuddered long, stuttering prayers That never gathered to a point, And left me still as full of secrets As a wet bag of blood. Your burning palm pressed me down. I sizzled and blackened. My strength bubbled and boiled away. I held myself together And waited to be overthrown. When I sickened enough on silence, My story broke out of me. I confessed. I did not know there was so much to say. I stacked secrets I could hardly name In neat rows under the open face Of God’s high heaven. I told the whole thing. I told the break of it, the dogged, gagged guilt; The wail of it; the haggard, sweet grit of it. It raised me on a wild, terrifying tide Of words without lies. And I was lifted, forgiven, concealed, Consoled, held, ushered in. My God! Will every broken trust be mended? Everyone who wants to find God, come. Everyone who wants the plain peace Of the holy world in their hands again, come. Everyone who wants to sit in silence Inside the walls of their old fidelities, Come and buy joy back again. God is a high hiding place in a flood. His love won’t quit, And he hasn’t met his match yet. So watch me. Learn from me. Listen where the honey is; To buzzing bruises that have been singing So low, so long you hardly hear them. Sorrow is a sly teacher with long, Loud lessons that don’t stop Once its angry engines fire alive. But if you go the whole way, even love Will loop around and hem you in If you let it.
Psalms: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 38, 39, 40, 42, 43, 46, 50, 51, 53, 54, 61, 62, 63, 65, 66, 70, 73, 74, 75, 84, 86, 88, 90, 91, 100, 107, 110, 114, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 123, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 133, 134, 137, 139, 140, 142, 147, 148.
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These are incredible. Thank you for sharing them.
I can only take these one at a time. Today, Psalm 63 --- "a love that shatters backward" --- so striking. To me you capture the treasure the speaker has found; perfectly.