solo gratia

What price will I put on you? Is there a price I will not pay? Base treachery lurks in my heart and I fear greatly that I will fail. Real fear, justified fear, because I know my weakness. Am I a Thomas? A Judas? You know. You know my heart. Let my heart be clay in your hand, Master Potter. Shape me as you will and save me from the conforming power of the world and the willful waywardness of my heart. Change my mind. Crush me. I fall on you, my rock and embrace the breaking. I want to embrace the cross, to walk with you, to endure rejection, injustice, torture and death, all to be closer to you. I will do as you ask. I will be what you require. You are longing personified. Let me see your face. A word from you is the water I need. Will you be silent and hide your face from me? Isn’t it that you are speaking but my ears are stopped by the noise of the world, that you appear all around me but I am blind. Heal me, you who heals. Feed me Bread of Life. Quench me Living Water. I receive. I believe. Lead me Jesus. Hold my hand. Hide me in the hollow of your hand. My sin is always with me, like sucking mud it traps my faltering steps. How can I ask to be blessed by the presence whose purity would burn my soul to cinder, depraved and impure as I am? Because the cross consumes me, refining like a fire, you stand me up by your strong power because it pleases you to do so.