"What about you?"

"What are you doing here, Son? You don't belong here. You belong with me."

In my fear, I have run from You.
In my shame, I have hidden my face from You.
In my doubt, I have forgotten You.
I have looked around at all the others rather than looking at You.
They don't believe You.
Many of them don't even believe You are real.
They think You're only in my head; that I have deceived myself.
I have listened to them, and been deceived.

"Yes, I know what they think of Me, and what they believe, and who they say I AM, but who do you say I AM? Who am I to you? That is what I AM eager to hear."

You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.
You are not just in my head.
You are not just a good thought or idea that we have come up with.
You are not an anesthesia to dull our pain so that we can make it through the day.
You are not a false hope.
You are my Hope.
You are the Lord of  Heaven and Earth.
The God who created the world and everything in it.
You do not dwell in a temple built by human hands,
And You are not even served by humans as if You need anything.
For You Yourself give all men life and breath and everything else.
Yet...all men have left you and have turned aside to their own way.

"What about you? Will you leave Me now too?"

Lord, where else could I go?!
You alone have the words of Life.
No one has ever loved me the way You do.
No one has ever pursued me or fought for me the way You do, Father.
I believe and know that You, Jesus, are the Holy One of God, full of grace and truth.

"Blessed are you, my Beloved, for it was not flesh and blood that revealed this to you, but our Father in Heaven. You did not stumble upon this revelation and it was not taught you by men. so do not fret over what men say about Me for I have been pleased to reveal Myself to you. I love you, and I will continue to show Myself to you."

Oh, Lord, show me Your face, and let me hear Your voice.
For Your voice is sweet, and Your face is lovely.

"I don't want to lose heart."

All men lose heart, but I don't want to lose heart.
All men lose faith, but I don't want to lose faith.
All men ache with the pain and regret of their past, but it doesn't have to be that way.
All men grow weary of doing what is good, but I don't want to be like other men.
I'm not like other men.
I am Yours.

You said we would find renewal of our strength.
You said You would mend the brokenhearted.
You said You would set the captives free.
You said that even if we were faithless You would remain faithful.
You said that You Yourself would wipe away our every tear.

If You have said it, Lord, then I know it to be true.
For by Your Word You declare things that are not as though they were.
You nullify things that are as though they were not.

Surely, You can make strength from my weakness.
Faith from my faithlessness.
Joy from my sorrow.
A new heart from these broken pieces.

I don't wish to argue with You anymore, Father.
I believe that You are who You say You are, and that I am who You say I am.
If You have said it, Lord, then I know it to be true.
If You have spoken it...then it is.

"Who do you say I AM?"

My heart feels devastated, fragmented.
I see it there at my feet in shambles; cast down and shattered.
As I gaze upon the broken places of my heart I look for a glimpse of my former self, of who I once was, but it seems that he has all but disappeared.
It feels as though I should grieve this loss, or that I should mourn or possibly be distressed.
Yet, I find myself strangely numb and unfeeling, a feeling I am quite familiar with.
As this insensitivity creeps in, I look all the more frantically at the shattered mirror of my heart, hoping to find my own likeness that has now been lost.
Have I somehow forgotten my own face?
Have I forgotten who I AM?

These broken pieces will never be whole again?
Will I ever be whole again?
The fear begins to set in now, and I find myself frantically snatching up pieces and setting my hands to the task of putting them in their rightful places, but they have become so shattered by the fall that I could never hope to restore this broken image to the Glory it once held.

How can I be made whole again?

In my desperation the fear sinks deeper within me.
What have I done?
How have I fallen so far?
Have I fallen beyond saving? Beyond redemption?
Who else but myself could remind me of who I AM?
I AM alone here, or so it would seem...

How can one recall what has been lost from one's memory?
Worse yet, how can one recall what has never been made known to them?
For truly this feels much like a dream, and I can not remember how I got to where I now am.
I feel as though I have arrived at a theater halfway through a film.
All I can recall is the sound of a heart breaking loudly as it fell to the Earth, and now here I stand looking down at its broken pieces.
Can I truly be so certain that this is my heart?
Was it even I that broke it?

There are so many questions that I am unable to answer,
and a task now set before me that no man could ever accomplish.
So then how can I be saved?
Who will show me who I AM?

My eyes begin to search around frantically for help, but there is no one.
All I can see are hills all around me.
How did I get here?
If only I could remember then I could know where to go from here,
but I have found myself lost here in this valley...alone.
Yet, what good would company do?
Who could tell me who I AM better then I myself?
They would have to know who I AM better then I do.
Is there such a Man?
My own heart has deceived me more times than I can count.
How could another understand it?
This Person would have to know me intimately inside and out.
They would have to be familiar with all of my ways,
Knowing each word from my lips fully before it has been spoken,
Having every hair of my head numbered,
Having known me from my mother's womb,
They would have never left me and would still be here now...

Who is like this?
Who could love so extravagantly?
Who could care so deeply...about me?
I have nothing I could ever offer such a person; nothing to attract such loving attention to myself.
How could there be such a Lover?
And if there were how could I possibly find them?

This Lover must choose to call me His Beloved, and reveal Himself to me.
He must be one who would rush over these hills and down into my valley.
One who would take me away with Him to a home that He has prepared for me.
Surely only with such a Lover could I ever be satisfied.
My eyes have been opened to what my heart yearns for...could I now settle for less?
What else could make my heart whole again, but this Lover and He alone?
Will He come for me, bounding over hills to my rescue?
Will I discover who I am, or does it still matter in light of the greatness of my Lover?
Could I ever find a greater identity than being His Beloved?
He has become my only desire as I have reflected upon Him.

What can I do now but sit and wait for as I ponder Your Love?
Surely You will come to me...You must.
See that my hands are open and outstretched to receive Your own.
They are weary from work and long to hold Yours.
They were made to hold Yours, my Lover.