aching

my soul cries for You.
the deepest part of who I am thirsts to be with You.
my being aches for Your presence.
desperation, finally.
I find satisfaction in the hunger.
O keep me from confusing my hunger with Your feast.
O keep me from the pride of one who longs for You
but finds himself,
and likes himself for the sentiment.
for it is not ultimately my own relief I seek.
I seek You, Jesus, for who You are.
I seek not to be humble, but to be humbled by You,
the honor of the Highest helping me lower.
I seek not humility, but humiliation from Your hand,
the honor of sharing in Your sufferings.
I seek You.
my very existence aches for You,
physical, immaterial.
and yet I ache to continue aching.
but only if my aching is to embrace more
of what I’ve found to both ease and intensify the pain.
O glorious hurt! O purifying flame!
scar the sin that has so long scarred you!
cause this sinful flesh to crack,
to pour forth water, saline tears,
the sweat of sin forced to flee.
conform me, Father, to the image of Your Son.
tear my heart over sin the way You tore His flesh.
and assuage my fears.
steady my trembling soul.
brace my trust.
persecute and torture my doubts
until they recant and abandon their efforts.