The Weight of Love

1.
Your love, O Lord, has substance I can feel,
A weight that holds this anxious wand’rer still,
Arrested by the strange, forgotten peal
Of heart-strings played at their Creator’s will.

What thing on earth can imitate the Hand
That plays so skillful through its own refrain?
My heart remembers still the great demand
To join my Lord in all His joy and pain!

Ah, heart! How will I choose a diff’rent way
When everything inside me was thus wrought?
This resonance, this love is where I’ll stay,
Attuned to each divinely nurtured thought.

The weight, the joy; I long to have it all!
And, humbled, I accept my Master’s call.

2.
Your Call, O Lord, holds meaning when entwined
In loving, as the Father loves, the world.
But I grow weary in my secret mind
Of wringing love wherever spite is hurled.

Where is the weight of glory that I know,
The note that made my every atom thrill?
When all my good intentions are brought low
Lord, can you play these tender heart-strings still?

Is this the journey as it’s meant to be,
A thing of lifelong striving and defeat?
How heals a heart from such intensity?
My soul will wait, its Lord and God to meet.

There is no satisfaction, peace I’ve found
Aside from here, soul prostrate on the ground.

3.
Your Help, O Lord, comes swiftly to my aid
When’er my heart retreats into its own,
For human love is far too cheaply made
And, finding hurt, it hardens to a stone.

How comes a heart to resonate so true
Through all the woes this world will throw its way?
So deep and strong, His love is making new
The place where fear and hesitation stay.

And should I wake one blessed morn to find
That nowhere in my heart remains aloof,
Then I will know the awesome pow’r behind
The cross where Christ gave death His firm reproof.

In substance, truth your love sustains me still
May all my heart beat wholly for your will.

4.
This Work, O Lord, this mercy is all thine:
That none shall perish far from love’s deep call.
And I, who find Thy love to now be mine
Must live the light that shines through death’s dark pall.

The battle that We wage is won with grace,
Each act of holy resonance a strike,
To tear the veil from over heart and face,
Revealing He to whom our form is like.

The war that rages in the heavenlies
Now claims my labor and my every act.
Each Christ-filled moment matters, yes to me;
But even more to he Christ would attract.

So heart to heart and side by side We fight,
With love that puts the enemy to flight.

© 2018 Jacqueline Tisthammer. All Rights Reserved.