The rolling emptiness of a Sunday afternoon,
The deafening silence of a vacant room,
The brutal roar of a mind gone mad,
After years of loneliness leave a soul unclad.
Reaching a loved one in search of a friend,
An unforeseen blow reveals this is the end.
A vacuous pang sucking life from my eyes,
But after all else this should have been no surprise.
Disjointed and pondering, unsteady and shamed,
Bloodcurdling abuse tearing a heart that’s been maimed,
Crying and tearing the sheets on the bed,
Pained by a future that only fills me with dread.
Suffering drowned by years of neglect,
A soul grown numb longing to connect,
When out of the silence a trumpet rings clear
Letting me know my Messiah is near.
“I’ll not leave nor forsake you,” His words rang true.
“I promised you then to leave my Spirit with you.
The days may seem dreary, lonely, and sad,
But my joy lifts hearts and makes souls glad.
Whatever your suffering, whatever you fear,
Lay your burdens on me, for I will always be near.”
“I love you,” He cried,
“So much that I died,
To give you new life, a future and hope.
Now go forth and shine my light among men,
For lo I am with you unto the end.”
I wiped off my tears and arose from my bed,
And humbly I worshiped He who rose from the dead.
He called me forth from my gloom-filled tomb,
And traded my sorrow for a heavenly bloom.
If Job could declare God is faithful and just,
I will rise from my ashes and shake off the dust.
He calls me beloved – He calls me His own!
After a lifetime of suffering He will beckon me home.
I’ll love Him and serve Him from now until then,
Even when darkness covers me again.
On that glorious morn’ when I rise anew
I’ll be rid of my suffering. He is faithful and true!
King Jesus pours mercy from the seat of His throne,
even as his blood poured out on that earthquake-wrenched stone.
Come! Wash your feet in the blood of the Lamb,
For all else fades when upon Him you gaze
As we enjoy Him forever beyond the end of our days.
Bryan Morey is Collections Manager at the Kentucky Museum and an editor at Progarchy. He has a Master of Arts in Public History from Loyola University in Chicago and a Bachelor of Arts in History from Hillsdale College.
Image courtesy of Carolyn Gifford
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