A Song for Every Sunrise: a Lenten reflection

Today I begin, everyday I begin again, but today I began by sitting with you. I sat in hopes that today you would explain to me, why. Why me? Why now? You knew I would be faithful. You knew I would not desert you. Why? And why are you silent?

In the past, in the pain you, taught me so much. Yet now I sit, begging for your perfect love to drive away these new fears.


So my heart is broken twice.  Once in search of you and once within itself.


It cannot keep its own pace, yet it is you who give my heart its reason for beating.


My heart has no reason to beat, no inspiration to pursue, no path for healing without you. Since the days of my childhood, I heard your voice.   You spoke of blessing, protection, the special love of a father. You set me apart. You ensured my heart would remain solely yours. Yet now, after struggles and hurts, you pile hurts on top of me and break the very heart you have preserved and only given silence for an answer.  I have always understood your words; I have seen layer upon layer in pictures inside my soul; but silence I cannot comprehend.

Where there once was song, now there is only a new hurt every morning.

I can carry sickness, loss, abandonment of security or purpose; but I cannot bare to walk day by day without your song over me as I rise.  I cannot continue without you smiling as a proud father. For this is where my strength comes.  When you withhold this, my hurt has no purpose.  My joy, no life.