I am desperate to find my place:
Joy, community, peace.
I am weary, weak and worn.

My light has dimmed to a glowing ember, and I am desperate.

Desperate to find my Secret Place:
The place-of-the-shut-door.
I cry out, but my throat is tight.
Nothing but whispers come,
But they are as earnest
As a dying man’s screams.

Begging, pleading, penetrating the darkness
Of the death surrounding me.
I long for the radiation of the Son
To burn away the cancer of my sin,
Radiate my shame and loneliness into oblivion
And rekindle the fire
That burned with quiet passion.
I am desperate.

I must find my Secret Place.
For I know once I’m there,
I can fall into Your unfailing arms
Finding hope, comfort and rest.
I must have Your Presence for preservation.
I am desperate.

I am in such need:
Need of the Son as my shield.
I have no arrows left in my quiver.
I have dropped my sword,
And I am running:
Running to the Place of Surrender.
I am desperate.

My ears are burning:
Burning from the fires of deception,
Pounding from the noises of plan B’s.
Ringing from the buzzing of hopeless narratives.

I need a fresh Word to fall like the spring rain,

To quench the fires,
Soften the blows,
And drown out the deafening noise.
I am desperate.

I need to feel Your breath.
I long to breathe in Holy Spirit,
Breathe out Holy Spirit.
I hunger for the nearness of Your tender heart,
Beating against my cheek,
As You embrace my lifeless body.

I am desperate for whatever You desire to give,

Here in the stillness
Of my Secret Place.

I have no strength to search out
The profound Truths of Your goodness.
I have no clarity of mind
To fully meditate on the riches
of Your beauty and truth.

I have no maps at my disposal
To search out
The hidden treasures
Found within the Living Pages.

I have energy enough
Only to open the door,
Fall into Your lap,
And breathe…

Breathe in the intoxicating fragrance,
And drink from Your hands
The Living Waters of new life.

I want to feel the tenderness of Your touch, as You gently caress my cares away,

And kiss my tears goodbye,
Falling from my brokenness.
I am desperate.

I long for my Secret Place,
The place-of-the-shut-door.
I hunger for the secrets revealed there.
I thirst for the living water
That revives parched souls.

I run for the place
Where intimacy breeds insight,
Passion precedes purpose,
Community brings life,
Presence produces peace,
Gazing gleans glory,
Tenderness touches toughness,
And the Son ignites my soul.

Thank you, Father
That when I come to my Secret Place,
I am drenched in Your love,
bathed in Your glory,
and washed in Your Son’s beautiful blood.