The candle of my soul
Wax, melts away for sorrow.
It grows weaker
As the flame becomes more dim.
This penitent heart melts
Like ice in hot water,
The affliction turns up the heat
To nearly boiling, 212 degrees.
With a keen sense of my affliction,
My interest now is to pour out
All that has become liquid, a drink offering.
In supplication before God,
My only request, Oh Sovereign King,
Is a cry for unmerited grace,
To willingly and joyfully bear this affliction of discipline.
But God, there is need of your gracious support,
Your mercy, like the beams that bear up under the burdens of my afflicted state.
When I told you all my ways
Your experienced team of surgeons,
Both Your Spirit and Your Word
Perform open heart surgery
Where the blocked arteries were bypassed to my mind.
Renewing it. Cleansing it.
You treat the blockage with other parts of Your body: Your people, Your church.
Lord, this way, the way You choose to afflict me for my good
I misunderstood….I doubted.
Make me understand the way of Your prescribed words that are not left indifferent,
Unlike my spiritual appetite.
God, I walk in Your Truth, not because there is no other way,
But, because there is none better.
Melt me. Make me crumble.
Turn up the heat.
Your way is better. To melt is better.