Wholes
The holes in my heart
Like a vortex
Their suction consuming
And destroying all in their path
The pain of the past
Left me like a Louis Sachar novel
They dig, dig, dig
Uncovering rawness, land mines and clay
Who has time, who has desire,
Who has ability
To fill as quick
As it empties?
Who has an arm
Long enough to save?
Who has a heart
Big enough to embrace?
Could the Name of Jesus
be enough to sustain us?
Could one touch alone
Reach down and make me whole?
So You pick up Your shovel
To the make the empty full
The broken restored
And the hurting healed
Surely You are the answer
The Comforter, the Counselor
In You, the holes become mountains
And the dry beds are fountains
Advertisement
