Paradox of the Unfinished Soul

Son of God,

My day is not complete,

And my heart is not at rest,

Until my soul swells with the worship,

And the want,

Of You.

 

Until I see and savor,

Your beauty,

I am not content.

 

I can sail the world,

And travel to the farthest corners,

Yet I will not find,

What I seek.

 

And I can do so many good things,

And run my soul ragged,

Running here and there,

Yet find no rest,

Or reward.

 

But when I look at You,

I travel to the farthest kingdoms.

And when I commune with Your presence,

I can do anything.

And never tire.

 

Son of God,

Your presence and Your fellowship,

Is the one thing,

I need.

And I can go nowhere,

Without it.

 

Son of God,

You are the most beautiful one.

And I must see You.

My day,

My life,

My soul,

Is not whole,

Until I see You.

 

I need Your fellowship fresh every moment,

Every morning,

Every new day.

 

Need to taste,

To see,

To touch.

 

Need to feel You kindle like a flame,

In my chest.

Need to fall humble at Your feet,

As Your presence blazes with a searing glory.

 

I need to be overwhelmed and awed by You,

Everyday.

Otherwise I forget,

Why I live.

 

Son of God,

A day of not hearing You,

Of not thrilling at You,

Of not feeling Your presence,

Is like a day without life.

 

Your presence,

It is better than life.

Your presence is life to me.

 

And I know You are always with me,

For Your Spirit lives in my chest.

Yet I need to dwell there.

Need to fall facedown in the sanctuary,

And know You.

 

I need to stand in awe of You.

I need to fear You.

For a day without the awestruck fear of You,

Is like a day without rhyme or reason,

Or color or shape.

 

The world stops making sense,

When I turn my face away,

From the fearing of You.

 

When I don’t see You,

When You are not the melody that thrills my soul,

The rhythm of my life falls apart,

And I wander and wonder and wail.

 

Son of God,

You are the one thing,

That holds me together.

And Your gospel is the one thing,

That makes my lungs breathe.

 

And I need to remember it.

 

Need to confess it to the deepest depths of my soul.

For it’s the truth,

That makes my soul breathe.

And it’s the grace,

That makes my soul thrive.

 

Son of God,

I need a steady diet,

Of the confessing of You,

And of Your gospel.

 

Son of God,

I confess,

That sometimes I wonder,

If the sound of my voice,

Carries beyond my four walls.

If the heartbeat of my life,

Travels out beyond my life.

 

Yet I beat my soul out,

With the tender bleeding heartbeats,

And I give You the whole bloody passionate thing,

As the truest offering,

That my soul knows how to give.

 

And sometimes I think I could,

And I should,

Be better.

Yet there’s something raw and real,

And wild,

And risky,

And vulnerable,

That I long to beat out here.

 

So I do.

And I just confess,

That You are God,

Over all my life.

 

And I confess,

That You are doing good things here,

That I neither see,

Nor know.

 

And yet,

I look back on my life,

And I see a trail of glory.

Like breadcrumbs that I follow,

In reverse.

 

And I look here,

At my life now,

And I see traces of glory.

Hand I know well enough,

After all this time.

 

Son of God who is here,

In my life.

Almighty Father,

Who governs and loves,

Every part.

 

I see Your hand.

I see You here.

And I weep at the paradox,

That is my life right now.

 

An unfinshed story,

That is already finished. 

An unrealized glory,

That is already realized.

 

Son of God,

Abba Father,

You are here,

In all Your glory,

In all the details of my life,

And soul.

And You make all my unfinished,

Good.

 

You are God who rests,

Like a cloud of glory over my soul,

And fills in all the broken,

And cracked open,

Places.

 

You are God who rests on me like a cloud.

And my unfinished life,

Is full,

And complete,

And full of glory.

 

The glory of the Lord rests upon me,

And Your presence overshadows me,

And all my uncompleteness,

Is complete,

And hidden in You.

 

Son of God,

You overshadow me,

And I am complete,

In You.

 

You take my small,

And broken,

And incomplete,

And You swallow it up,

And it’s all lost in Your glory.

 

All of who I am,

Is lost in Your glory.

 

You are the Son of God,

Who overshadows me,

And I am lost,

In the fullness of the Almighty.

 

And all the unfinished in me,

Is immersed in You.

Gospel of God that leaves it impossible,

To lack.

 

For there is nothing,

That Your grace and Your glory,

Do not cover.

And there is no fissure,

Nor poverty,

Of spirit,

That Your gospel,

Does not thoroughly fill,

And overflow.

 

And where my deepest need is,

I find Your abundance is strongest.

And where my deepest questions are,

I find Your deepest answers.

 

Gospel of God that always seems,

To race ahead of me,

And reach the questions first.

Gospel of God that seems to follow behind me,

And I look back,

And You’ve filled in all the gaps.

 

Son of God,

I confess,

I do not do all things well,

Or right.

And yet where I fail,

And where I fall,

And where I have made the gravest of mistakes,

Your grace has worked redemption,

Even while I have slept.

 

And I wake,

And there is a crop here,

That I did not plant,

Nor tend.

 

But You are God who has been working here,

Even while my heart was asleep.

 

You are God who has spared me,

From certain death,

And tragedy.

You are God who has kept my foot,

From slipping.

 

You are God,

Into whom,

My whole life,

I have fallen.

 

You are God who has kept me,

From being utterly cast down.

 

God Almighty,

So many times,

I should have been devastated.

And I’ve fallen into such darkness,

I should not ever,

Have gotten out.

 

I have stood on the edges of chasms so wide,

I should not now be standing,

On the other side.

 

I am standing,

Where I ought not to be.

And I stand in the middle of Your glory,

And I want to weep.

For my life is an impossibility,

And a miracle,

And a paradox,

And a holy thing.

 

I am the small and broken and poor,

Who is overshadowed by the fullness,

And the glory,

Of the Almighty.

 

I am the one,

With holes in her soul.

And You are the Son of God,

Who surrounds my soul,

And keeps all the life inside of me.

 

I am the broken one,

And You are the fullness,

That floods me,

And never lets me lack.

 

I am the broken one,

And where my need and weakness and sin abound,

Your grace abounds more.

And where there are holes in my soul,

Your grace pours all the fiercer,

And my cup still manages to run over,

Even despite my cracks.

 

And the grace of God Almighty,

Pours out through the broken places in my soul.

And the tears flow like streams,

Of salty redemption.

 

You are God,

Who floods my soul with You,

And so much,

That it pours out of all my pores,

And all my hole-y places.

 

You are the abundant God,

Who so thoroughly explodes in my life,

That my poverty,

Is utterly lost,

In Your tidal wave.

 

You explode with such ferocity,

That my smallness,

And my frailty,

Are of no consequence.

 

You are God Almighty,

Who floods my life,

And it is finished,

Even in its unfinished state.

 

You are God Almighty,

And You are my completeness.

You are God Almighty,

And my broken life,

Isn’t broken,

In You.

 

Gospel and glory of God,

That fill every part.

Promises and presence of God,

That give me more than I have,

And make me more than I am.

 

And I am amazed at what You’ve given me,

And who You’ve made me to be,

And who You are,

Here with me.

 

I’m amazed at all that You are to me,

And all that You give to me,

And all that You declare me,

To be.

 

I say it backwards,

And forwards.

Confess it on my tongue,

And it feels strange and familiar,

And sweet and wonderful.

 

Sovereign grace of the sovereign God,

Thick and heavy and glorious,

On my tongue,

And in my soul.

 

Clothed with Christ,

I lack nothing.

I am robed and clothed and covered,

With the majesty,

That is the Christ,

The Son of the Living God.

{Selah}

 

I confess,

I will spend my lifetime,

Learning even just a little bit,

Of what that means.

 

Clothed with the Son of God.

Clothed with the Righteous One.

Clothed with the Sovereign King,

Clothed with the Lord of all.

 

And how can I think that I lack anything?

For I am clothed with the Most High God,

Covered with the blood of the Lamb.

And the Son of God,

Wraps Himself around me,

And clothes my naked soul,

With Him.

 

I dwell within,

The Son of God.

Even right now,

Your presence and Your gospel,

Are my embrace.

 

I am sheltered in You,

In a way that my soul,

Can only perceive,

In the faintest of whispers.

 

For the full revelation,

Of Your glory,

Is far greater,

Than I know,

And far greater,

Than my soul could bear.

 

So I live enshrouded,

In the echo of Your glory.

In the dim reflection,

In the mirror.

 

And the whisper,

Is enough to send my to my knees.

Is enough to break my soul open,

Into tears.

 

The whisper of Your glory here,

Is enough,

To have raised my broken soul,

From the dead.

It is enough to make strong,

My once shattered heart.

To make my soul beat like a strong and wild thing.

 

Son of God,

I am clothed with You,

And You cover all my nakedness,

And You fill all my gaps,

And You flood all my broken places,

And You make the unfinished soul,

Whole,

Full,

Flooded with glory,

And complete.

 

I am unfinished,

Yet I am complete.

For I dwell in Your fullness,

And You fill every lack.

 

I am broken,

Yet I am full.

I am weak,

Yet You make my heart strong,

And courageous.

 

Son of God,

I am unfinished,

Yet I am perfected,

In You.

 

You are my victory,

My fullness,

My righteousness,

My grace,

And my glory.

 

And I am the trophy of Your victory,

And Your reward.

And You are mine.

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