Rest For My Soul, In This

January 21, 2018 jeanne w.

In my quest for rest for my soul, in This, I have studied the Theology of Glory and the Theology of the Cross. I've studied them. Trying to get to the bottom of them... and some whiskey bottles, and wine bottles. And some tequila bottles, too. I have studied the bottom of paychecks, bank accounts, and careers. Friendships. Marriage. and graves. And each and every time, I sought to find rest for my soul, in This, by trying to get to the bottom of them, oh yes, I've studied them... to try to ease my aching soul. And it's safe to say, now, I think, and drink, and sink, and stink, that in my quest for rest for my soul in This... they have all been better at studying me.

Bless the LORD, oh, my soul, though, keeps hammering and clamoring to fill This. emptiness. But my mouth is only filled with bitterness. Bless the LORD, oh, my soul, though. Keeps climbing. trying. To reach Heaven's Holy steps. An outcast lep. all i do is. fall. short. of holiness. a bruised and bloodied reed, in the weeds. face first. in the dirt. with a broken heart that leaks... until it no longer beats. and i am buried in dust and ash, a heap of discarded trash. And my soul, oh my soul, it is crushed, within. me.

No smoldering wick do I bring

No, my soul does not sing

When heaven's sun sets down his crown

Swallowing me up like sup

despite my fight in This Night

Just in time for The Thief to come while I'm undone.

To steal my Pain. And destroy my Shame. No shining robe does He wear. only a Cross does He bear. Swaddled and swagged in tattered rags, of Night's Grief and Grind. no dazzling face appears. But. Still. It is all made clear. Heaven's Holy Steps. Fell, for me. The Bruised and Bloodied Reed. In the Weeds. His Holy Face. First. In the Dirt. Where His broken Heart leaked, until it no longer beat. I AM. Buried in dust and ash, a pile of discarded trash. And His Soul, Oh His Soul, it is crushed. within. me.

His smoldering Wick doth He bring

Where His Soul

Still

Sings

When Heaven's Son set down

His Crown

for me

Swallowing up like sup

because of His Fight

This

Night

so the thief can no longer come

while i'm undone

Selah

Rest

For My Soul

In This

is found

and bound

Where Golden Amber is

Still Here

embering

ice

Coal

in my soul

Burning

my lips

With Fingertips

Of Old