I am worn

Now is the time for some honesty.

I’m not as great as you all seem to think I am.

You didn’t think I was great? Good. You’re already in on the secret. Time to crush the image for the rest of you.

I’m not the talented, wise, pure, godly individual many people seem to perceive me as.

I’m selfish, proud, jealous, and judgmental to name a few.

The more I scoff at the people I perceive to be pretentious the more hypocritical I become.

That’s right. I don’t just love people, I also scoff at them behind their backs.

My very best is never enough. I try to love. I try to serve. I try to forgive. Yet I am still broken.

I’m an imperfect sinner. And I have no excuse.

Growing up I smiled at my teachers, looked my elders in the eye when they spoke to me, didn’t behave immodestly while in public places, and kept profanities from leaving my mouth in the presence of sharp ears.

The adults in my life loved me, and treated me as if I were the epitome of maturity in my generation.

It made me feel good. I gloried in my little Pharisaical heart.

Now I’m at university. Here I don’t go clubbing, I don’t exhibit drunken behavior, I don’t smoke what’s offered, I continue to steer clear of the profanities, I don’t understand most sexual jargon, I still smile at my teachers, and I’ve never even had my first kiss.

My peers are fascinated by me and treat me like I belong in a museum, they look at me like I’m the epitome of innocence in my generation.

Even now I pride myself in being different, and sometimes my inner Pharisee rears its ugly head and whispers to my soul, “not just different… better.”

They are all wrong. Have always been wrong.

I am not mature.

I am not innocent.

My heart is as black as the woman on the corner and the man in the prison cell. I am as dirty as a deceiving whitewashed tomb.

I am not perfect, nor am I godly.

The weight of my sin is crushing me. My fear of conformity is turning my heart to stone.

I do not feel strong, or knowledgeable, or worthy.

I feel like I am living a lie.

No matter how hard I try to stand tall I always stumble.

I am not righteous.

Today I am simply me.

And I am worn.

Today the mountaintop looks far away, and feel as if I can barely lift my head to gauge the distance.

Now, more than ever, I need hope in the midst of this world.

I’m tired
I’m worn
My heart is heavy
From the work it takes to keep on breathing

I’ve made mistakes
I’ve let my hope fail
My soul feels crushed
By the weight of this world
And I know that you can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart that’s frail and torn

I want to know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause I’m worn

I know I need
To lift my eyes up
But I’m too weak
Life just won’t let up
And I know that You can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left

And my prayers are wearing thin
I’m worn even before the day begins
I’m worn I’ve lost my will to fight
I’m worn so heaven come and flood my eyes

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart that’s frail and torn

I want to know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn

Though I’m worn

I’m worn

– Tenth Avenue North, Worn

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s