A Psalm

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The thorns have been stuck deep in my hands, hands that longed to help, now bruised and torn. My heart feels dead, no life is in it.
They seek my life, which I will not give them, they tear at my heart I try to shrink away.
They come at me like wolves barking angry threats of deciet.
Though they try to ensnare me, you o'God are at my side. I cling to you like water to the shore line, hanging on the rocks, grabbing at the sand.
You see my brokenness among the rocks, you gather my bones in your hands, you comfort me and restore me among the living. You clothe my nakedness, you wrap me in your mantle of love.
I have learned of your great mercy though I could not see it, I sing of your compassion, though I could not feel it.
With patients and understanding you waited for me to heal; with love, you drew me to yourself.
My sorrow has become my greatest joy; for I see, you never left me for one moment.