Broken Cistern | A Psalm Of Lament
674
post-template-default,single,single-post,postid-674,single-format-standard,ajax_fade,page_not_loaded,,vertical_menu_enabled,qode-title-hidden,qode_grid_1300,side_area_uncovered_from_content,qode-content-sidebar-responsive,qode-theme-ver-17.2,qode-theme-bridge,disabled_footer_top,disabled_footer_bottom,qode_header_in_grid,wpb-js-composer js-comp-ver-5.6,vc_responsive

A Psalm Of Lament

I’m numb to existence and am totally broken. I’m unable to change and I refuse to see the light. I’ve drank from so many broken cisterns and empty chases of meaningless pursuit.

I am a predator with a never ending abusive hunger – a penchant not for blood, but for the chase. I am proud of my wrong and ashamed of my good. My bags under my eyes and constant broken yearnings for freedom wrap around me like a suffocating bag. I can’t breathe, my drive won’t let me.

For so long I’ve know this way of life. I prioritise and obsess over the petty and pore over this secret I refuse to let go of. I use and I abuse.

I am a monster. And my coldness has reached a limit where I feel nothing, taste nothing but devour everything. I am more than lost, I am defining my own hell.


And while I dissolve into this mess, God is there. His arms are crossed. He sees. He watches. He knows.

His own creation is destroying those whom He made and loves. While heaven is silent, His presence is not. God is there. He holds truth and love. He holds the cure. His outstretched hands brings light and calm. It shatters the darkness.

God is good. He is not distant. God scoffs at the desperate attempts to numb the pain and still outstretches his hands.

He sees a predator yet provides a saviour. He breaks me.

A predator will pursues to kill. A saviour pursues to save. A predator will not stop chasing, yet a saviour will not stop saving. While a predator looks for it’s next victim to prey on, Christ will care for His flock and saves the lost.

He shines into our darkness.

You see my self-righteous attempt to clean the handle of a filthy toilet brush. You see beneath my pride. You see my self justification, and flawed comparisons.

You are pained when you see my destroy myself and others. You’re waiting. You’re gracious.

You hold me back from running away – to escape the realties of who I am. You don’t allow me to escape my pain nor do you allow me me numb it, instead you provide life. You provide the escape from all sin, even the darkest, most secretive of sins.

You restore.

When I am not yet fully broken, you catch me when I am falling.

You are there.