A Psalm of the Waiting Heart
O Lord,
I come not with hands full,
but with a heart emptied —
of striving, of answers, of self.
You see me —
the man I hide from others,
the weariness beneath my smile,
the trembling beneath my words.
I am broken,
not in pieces, but in truth —
a soul cracked open,
waiting not for blessing,
but for Your presence.
Your silence is not absence.
Your stillness is not neglect.
You are here —
and that is enough.
I remember, O God,
the days You carried me
when I had no strength to stand,
when breath was a prayer,
and tears were my only language.
I live only because You willed it.
I breathe only because mercy fills my lungs.
Do not turn Your face from me now.
Even when I deserve Your back,
turn instead Your gaze —
tender, ancient, kind.
Make me like the shadow under Your wings,
hidden, not forgotten.
Humbled, but not cast away.
Low… but loved.
Teach me again, O Father,
that grace is not earned,
and mercy is not delayed.
For I am Yours.
Forever Yours.
Even in silence.
Even in the waiting.
Even when all I can do
is fall… and stay fallen
at Your feet.
Amen.
