You already know this about me,
and you watch as the cycle repeats,
and repeats
and repeats
and You know it doesn't have to be this way.

It's not as if I can't pinpoint the problem,
I know the lies, or most of them
I know what needs to break
for freedom's sake.
Freedom that I already have, but that I've contained
with my own mind the padlock

condemning me to the very fate you died so I may conquer.

And so, with good intentions,
and my heart's desperate clutch for sincerity,
I pinpoint these lies,
the things that are void of You
and I vow to get rid of them.

Cold turkey. Uprooted. Gone.
So I may arrive at the destination before even embarking on the journey

But it's impossible,
because I'm not doing it through You who gives me strength,

I am doing it alone,
hoping gritted teeth and sweat will be enough to break the cycle,
hoping that if I take this burden on my shoulders and carry it far enough
I'll somehow be less disgraceful,
less disgusting
less ashamed

but my will is weak,
and my flesh roars for it's passions
and in seconds,
I've forsaken the almighty God, the Great I Am,
to fall into temptation's arms.
Sincerity is shattered on the floor around me,
and my heart bleeds for what it cannot achieve.

Expectations weigh like a thousand tons of water over me,
the ones I couldn't live up to,
self-imposed and suffocating.
I'm this far under and so far away,
my lungs fill with water instead of Your life giving breath
and the darkness appears
first in spots,
and then consumes.

And before I give in, my last fleeting thought is always
"where were You".

And then, Light
You rush in, You fill every pore
and grace is in my hands,
undeserved, and unearned,
a gift, given by my Daddy.
And I find joy in this, it makes my heart light
and my feet dance
and fills me with HOPE

ever elusive,
and so my fingers clamp down on it.
They twist it, and mangle it
and my touch changes hope, and imprints my own selfishness on it.
And suddenly I cease to chase Your dreams,
but pursue myself.

And the cycle repeats
and repeats
and repeats

But my heart knows this hope... that You are working on this with steady hands,
gently and patiently.
You lead me through the desert and whisper tenderly to me.
You restore my vineyards.
And I know I am in a process of  becoming re-defined by grace.
That this cycle will be broken once and for all,
and Your victory will sound like trumpets
and the crumbling of strongholds,
the sound of angels songs
and of a daughter's thankfulness.