Woe is me! For I have become
As when the summer fruit has been gathered
As when the grapes have been gleaned
There is no cluster to eat
No first-ripe fig that my soul desires
I have begun to see
The depths of me
They have trickled through
My sight and to
The fragile bowl
Of my desolate soul
There is so little right
In all that I pretend of light
And that which has a holy glow
Is nothing in me to know
Though I deny my hand
Nothing helps me to stand
And so in death I pour
My last breath out on the floor
Pinned by gravity
By the horror of me
And beg with a whispered word
That no-one near could have heard
But as for me, I will look to the Lord
I will wait for the God of my salvation
My God will hear me.
When this finally
This song sweet as spring breeze
Flies into my soul
Twill finally render me whole
And perhaps strongly
That even I can hear me
Who is a God like you, pardoning iniquity
And passing over transgression
For the remnant of his inheritance
He does not retain his anger forever
Because he delights in steadfast love
He will again have compassion on us
He will tread our iniquities underfoot
You will cast all our sins
Into the depths of the sea
How wonderful a name my nephew has. He has such a lot to learn from the prophet Micah. Powerful to save his soul. Powerful to save my soul.
But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah,
who are too little to be among the clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me
one who is to be ruler in Israel,
whose coming forth is from of old,
from ancient days.
And he shall stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the Lord,
in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God.
And they shall dwell secure, for now he shall be great
to the ends of the earth.
And he shall be their peace.
I have known in my head for a long time that my sin, not that of others against me is the target of my warfare. I must delve within me and know that sin, know it clearly and honestly. I have to realize that, though all around me is corrupt, what God is looking at in my life is my sin and That is what I am about in pursuit of holiness. It is and should be a daunting, exhausting and ultimately a profoundly miserable task.
If one can gaze at the cross with anything less than amazement, grief and maybe even shock at the depth of his own sin, where can he find hope? I had to know my destitute condition before I could realize my redemption. In Christ, I find my hope, for in me there is nothing but darkness and misery. His Spirit brings light to what would otherwise be a murky, lurking soul.
See Gollum in the Lord of the Rings story. There’s not much better graphic example in literature today.