Grappling Hours

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” — Psalm 147:3, NKJV

In the predawn hours 

when only the first birds

have begun to test their voices 

before the arrival of a full choir,

I sit and ruminate life.

In this dark hour You meet me 

with comfort only love can give, 

and I whisper my failings,

sob out my pain, sing praises, 

and You attend me so patiently.  

This morning it is doubt

that anguishes me, that same 

old niggling feeling that I don’t

measure up, that I have failed 

another person — just one

big disappointment —

How could You ever never love

someone as broken as me?

But You still my unsteady spirit,

calm my agitated thoughts,

and remind me I am Yours,

broken shards and all.

Oh, God, thank You for these

grappling hours of meditation

that lead to the sweet stillness

of restoration and the affirmation

of Your perfect peace. 

—C.L. Fisher, August 2020

Unless otherwise indicated, all content, including writing and images, are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.

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