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For the enemy hath persecuted my soul; he hath smitten my life down to the ground; he hath made me to dwell in darkness, as those that have been long dead. Therefore is my spirit overwhelmed within me; my heart within me is desolate. I remember the days of old; I meditate on all thy works; I muse on the work of thy hands. I stretch forth my hands unto thee: my soul thirsteth after thee, as a thirsty land. Selah. Hear me speedily, O LORD: my spirit faileth: hide not thy face from me, lest I be like unto them that go down into the pit. Cause me to hear thy lovingkindness in the morning; for in thee do I trust: cause me to know the way wherein I should walk; for I lift up my soul unto thee.
O Lord how my soul cries out the words of these verses and pleads for the day I may never relate to them again. Earth, flesh, how I grow weary of struggling to keep them at bay. The ebb and flow of my spiritual life is like a noose around my neck and I have come to see free will as a curse. I am too prone to wander. How easily the business of day to day life can drain the soul of life giving water and leave it searching in a dry and thirsty land. How grateful am I for a God who answers my plea and will always pull me back out of the desert.
How well I can relate to Israel who often went whoring after other Gods. No, my idols are not in the form of a golden calf, but they have a form, TV, computer, couch, food. Nehemiah 9 brings tears at the account of all the times Israel turned their back on you and yet you forsook them not. How many more times have I neglected you, gone days, maybe even weeks without coming to the foot of your throne.
Here am I Lord, Psalm 43 is my cry.
"Oh to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be
Let they goodness like a fetter
Bind my wondering heart to Thee
Prone to wander Lord I feel it
Prone to leave the God I love
Take my heart Lord
Take and seal it
Seal it for Thy courts above"
O Lord how my soul cries out the words of these verses and pleads for the day I may never relate to them again. Earth, flesh, how I grow weary of struggling to keep them at bay. The ebb and flow of my spiritual life is like a noose around my neck and I have come to see free will as a curse. I am too prone to wander. How easily the business of day to day life can drain the soul of life giving water and leave it searching in a dry and thirsty land. How grateful am I for a God who answers my plea and will always pull me back out of the desert.
How well I can relate to Israel who often went whoring after other Gods. No, my idols are not in the form of a golden calf, but they have a form, TV, computer, couch, food. Nehemiah 9 brings tears at the account of all the times Israel turned their back on you and yet you forsook them not. How many more times have I neglected you, gone days, maybe even weeks without coming to the foot of your throne.
Here am I Lord, Psalm 43 is my cry.
"Oh to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be
Let they goodness like a fetter
Bind my wondering heart to Thee
Prone to wander Lord I feel it
Prone to leave the God I love
Take my heart Lord
Take and seal it
Seal it for Thy courts above"
