God Mining

Thank You for the ability to feel.
For accessing wounded places so You can love there.

The crying orphan waits in silent ache.

Gentleness is patient.

“There is a time…”
When the heart is finally strong enough
To see and to feel
Hard, and harder, things.

Paralyzed nerves relax and awake.
Pain whisper-rejoices: I CAN FEEL!

Come to me here, My Lord.
In truth, You have brought me.

Hold me while I stare with wide eyes
At the damage.

The lack of identity,
Barren emptiness,
Unseenness.
The desolation of “love” using.

Waking up in layers,
One nerve at a time.

You are Gentleness.
With Eyes fully open.

You are tunneling, expanding capacity.
Finding tender places
Long shut away in unresolved lock-down.
(Not by choice, but out of necessity, survival, even gift.)

Buried treasure,
Longing to be mined,
Seen,
Taken in hand and made beautiful.

Your precision removes and burrows
Until the shaft reaches dark places I could never access.

Stores from ages past.
Some formed by pressure.
Hard-hearted diamonds.
Inky petroleum.
Precious gems and metals.

… Or You search the watery depths
For riches once touched by the skill of man.

Pirated maybe.
Lost.
Lost to all who breathe on land.

You don’t need a searchlight.
You know.
You see all.

You cover.
And play hide-and-seek with man.

You let him scavenger-hunt
For the fun of it.

Who knows what he’ll find
If he dares to look.

God, the empty longing…
You SEE.

Even the numbness is yearning
For Your glory to come to bear
On all the hidden things.

Jesus, Love of mine,
You’ve been to hell and robbed it.

You’ve gone to the furthest reaches of darkness
And preached to spirits in prison.

My prison awaits You.

My longing heart etches lines
On the dungeon walls
And awaits
The Son of Righteousness
With healing in His wings.

Find me.
In You I am FOUND.