this body of death

How I love to seek out the beauty
In ugly things.
To find the poem in things
I should pass over,
While passing over
What is truly beautiful.

But what light could I possibly find
In the darkness
Were it not You?
The stars?
But whose hands set them there?

Oh, how quickly I abandon You,
And trade Your glory
For ashes.
How good I've become at searching
While ignoring the answers
I already know.

You have made me
A beautiful white horse,
Pure and free,
Yet I insist on rolling in the mud
Like a pig,
Happily trapped in its pen.

I wallow in the world
When You have overcome the world.
I try to glorify brokenness
When You have come to heal.

How much better it would be
To love You with my whole heart,
When what You offer is so much greater-
Beauty unmarred.

Yet a part of me clings to these ashes,
Longs to rake through them again and again
And forget Your blazing fire
That brought me both warmth and light.

Now in the dark I am blind.
I tell myself it is better to be cold,
As my shaking body
Grows hungry and weak.

You invite me to Your table to feast,
But I am the pickiest of children,
And refuse to touch my plate,
Though I waste away.

Oh wretched man that I am!
I live and yet hate life,
Clinging to death and dust
And thinking it's good.

Because I desperately want to be good,
To find something beautiful
In my darkness,
Some star that I have set there.

How quickly I forget
Your glorious grace
And trade it away,
Extinguishing the flame
And seeking my own spark.

I end up rolling in the mud,
Rummaging in these ashes again.
Oh, who will deliver me
From this body of death?

Thanks be to God,
In Christ Jesus our Lord.

I am the Israelite,
Wandering through the desert
And forgetting You at every turn,
Though I've seen You part the seas,
And more miraculous deeds
Than I could ever recount.

As soon as You give me Your law,
And I am in awe of Your holiness,
You find me worshiping a golden calf.
How quickly we stray,
And follow the sin in our hearts.

Yet You have called us Your people,
And I, Your child.
You have loved us
Even in our unfaithfulness,
We who are prone to wander.

Lord, only You could save
Our twisted hearts,
Bent and broken
And in need of You.

You have set us upon a rock,
Your steady unchanging grace,
And nothing can separate us
From Your everlasting love,
Not even ourselves.

Though we are foolish and we run,
You are the Father
Who loves the prodigal son.