The Pain That Makes My Heart To Sing

O the pain that makes my heart to sing,
Directs my eyes to be lifted up to you
Pondering that which I’m now going through
Is great cause to fall before you and to bring
My deepest heart’s questions and thoughts,
Yearnings, sins, and shortcomings inside
Learning my depravity is deeply unqualified.
But now it is you, not I, who have sought
To bring this shame, guilt, fear to naught.

FATHER, YOU ARE holy and most worthy of praise, perfect in justice and mercy. How is it then, that you bestow so much mercy upon me? Why is it that you do not smite me within an instant–for each sin I commit is a cosmic act of high treason, against you. Every time I sin, I choose to not treasure you supremely.

Teach me, sovereign Lord, who wields over all
Bend my corrupt affections, break and bind my will
And to your great end, my evil heart’s desires–kill!
To free my heart to love you, not this sinful gall.
Do I suppose you care not how I use my time?
And am I so foolish and preoccupied to think
You’d, by any means, not drive me to the brink
Of my selfish sight to treasure you only as sublime?
Teach me your great love in knowing my great crime.