The Locksmith

In the midst of a seemingly good day, I find myself anxious and fearful.
Joy weaves no nest in my heart, as aching has claimed that space long ago.

What if I told you I was not alright?
What if I told you my life was not true to your eyes?

If ever you did, could you still love me?

Waking and walking are two things I do not wish to do.
Let me lie here and remain a liar, for lies run rampant in my life.
I am not strong and have never been; I cower and flee.
This man you see, is lit by a false light on these dreaded nights.
Let me assure you, I am not who you claim me to be.

So anxious to wear my failures and burdens like badges of honor, I retreat.
I am no man of valor; one whose name should receive not the voice of praise.

This pain I harbor, is the deconstruction of who I built myself to be.
As You burn me to the ground, I pray You do not forget to rebuild.
Rip the bones from my body; the ones that stabilize this longstanding idol.
When You rebuild again, I plead with You to add more grace to my frame.

I fear the grace You once handed me, has dried up in the sun of self-righteousness.
This soul thirsts for selflessness and whole-hearted love for You and Your people.
The key sinks in my stomach, but please pry my fingers from this chest.
Break my hands and cast them with stillness.

Oh Master Locksmith, I’ve heard tale of your ability to negate the strongest locks.
Dissect my core and leave signs of Your work scraped into my guts.
Leave me unhinged and at the mercy of the storm’s fury.
With this wind, uproot what I have buried and show me the light of day once again.

To claim I wait patiently, would solidify my once known reputation as a liar.
Tear apart my chest, before I have the chance to hide what is already Yours.

Locate my heart that is lost in a sea of debris and reclaim it as worthy.


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