A Psalm for the Ones Who Bear the Wounds No One Else Sees
O Lord of the Host Invisible,
I stand upon these walls You assigned me,
Not because I am worthy,
But because You called me by name,
And I answered with trembling hands,
“Here am I, Lord…send me.”
The arrows fly unseen in this hour,
The darts of the mocker, the schemes of the whisperer,
The poison words behind closed doors,
All launched by those who will not look upon You.
They see me as the fool,
The noise in the streets,
The outdated remnant crying warnings into the void.
But You, O God, You see the wounds they do not.
You see the tears that fall into the dust,
The cries uttered where no ear listens but Yours.
You see the weariness in my bones,
And the pain that makes sleep flee from my nights.
Yet I will not abandon this post.
Though they mock, I will still cry out.
Though they throw darts,
I will still raise my shield.
Though my name be cursed in the streets,
I will still bless Your name in the heavens.
For my wounds are not fatal,
They are reminders.
Reminders that I am not of this world,
That this world was never my home.
Reminders that my reward is not their applause,
But Your embrace.
O Jesus, my King,
You bore the scars of the unseen war first.
You took the nails,
You took the spit,
You took the weight I could never bear.
So if You ask me to bear this little weight now,
I will do so gladly,
Even if my voice grows hoarse,
Even if my heart grows heavy.
Strengthen me, Lord of the broken-hearted.
Pour Your peace into this vessel of dust.
And let me not forget…
That when the world turns its back,
You never will.
I do not seek crowns.
I do not seek thrones.
I seek only to be found faithful,
When You call me home at last.
Amen.