Jeremiah’s Cistern
How long, O Lord? How long?
The mire and stagnant decay ooze slowly around me, drying, stiffening
Congealing into a cake’d mass of putrescent filth
My arms, once wielding weapons of valour,
Once vanquishing and defending;
Now lock’d beside me, lay dormant, lame
Cocooned in this muck-filled, thorny pit.
My feet, once swift and steady,
Agile and able to carry the heralded message of your return;
Now suck’d beneath me, tapped and trench’d
As fast as the eldest trees’ bulwark roots.
The fog, as it rises here, scrapes at my eyes
And washes my brain with a dullness of thought.
Yet still I remain most keenly aware:
The memories of light; of fight; of action and charge
Compel me to struggle and long to be wrenched
From this sinking, oozing, stifling mass
That surrounds me; suffocates me; immobilises and demoralises me.
How long, O Lord? How long?
Free me from this pit.
Lift me out & let me run.
Let me run & let me fight.
Let me live to proclaim the coming Kingdom.
Wash off this filth so I can reflect You.
Come. Rescue. Cleanse. Renew. Activate. Send.
Come.
For men are not cast off
by the Lord forever.
by the Lord forever.
Though he brings grief, he will show compassion,
so great is his unfailing love.
so great is his unfailing love.
For he does not willingly bring affliction
or grief to the children of men.
or grief to the children of men.
(Lam 3:31-33, NIV)
Thank God for hope. : )