This orphanage ravages my soul
Leaves me without a breathe
Downcast in the most vulnerable form
I am close, so close to death.
I sit, lie, wallow in my squalor
One of which I did not create,
But I have a choice to become numb to it
Beat upon His chest as I berate
And question, always question
The One whose hand is sovereign over it all.
His plan to gift me with darkness
Was met with a brilliant light,
Nothing hidden from His sight,
Not even my restless longings
Or sudden terrors in the dead of night.
What a gift, a perfect gift
To have the fog of disoriented loves lift
When Satan demanded to sift
And make the view of the darkness shift
Into a fearful thing,
A shameful thing to be hidden from view,
“But I want you!”
So He says,
He wants my dirt,
My filth, my grime,
Two thousand years ago came just in time
For the fulfillment of His promises to yours and mine,
That Redemption from the pit
Deliverance from the orphanage in which we sit
Has come for the deaf, lame, dirty and blind.
The adoption papers have been signed,
We wait for Him to arrive
We won’t believe our eyes
When instead of disgust we see
Grace and pursuit we have received.
I’ve been redeemed
I’ve been made new.
I cannot stay in the orphanage of my wounds
Not when He has healed me with His,
My burdens have been overpowered
By the Words of my Savior:
“It is finished.”
I’ll live every day because of this News.
This good, good News.