The Unhealed Heart

It’s a quiet moment. The clarity in the pause.

A deep breath in. It rustles an escape.

Hands untwisted, the same is the heart.

Eyes lay closed on tear dried cheeks.

Please God, if only you would…

Stepping in, His presence fills the space.

His very breath brings healing grace.

Hands that are scarred upturned with open arms.

My tiny heart cracks and the massive places of lack.

Dear one, if only you’d let me…

With eyes upturned and broken heart in hand

He accepts this gift with a gentle plan.

The process is bitter, vinegar and wine

Taking slow His time, binding hurt lovingly with twine.

‘What’s taking so long’ I cry

‘You can’t rush the heart’s mending’ comes His quiet reply.

Patience is hard. To sit, to wait.

There’s a process in the plan

Even if you don’t understand.

The rush of fear comes beating on my heart

But He answers the fear with a look that would start.

His gentle reminders of hope in the years

The sun through the clouds, laughter in the tears.

A hope and a promise, even yet to be fulfilled

Brings a lightness to the heart, even one that’s broken apart.