In seasons where the longing seems overwhelming, I’ll often sigh and think, “Lord, You know my heart” as the words of a Delirious song pour forth from my lips:
Lord, You have my heart
And I will search for Yours
Jesus, take my life
And lead me on
Every time these words and this melody burst into my consciousness, I wonder at my juxtaposition of “know” in my mind with “have” from my lips.
My mind tells the Lord–and myself–that He knows my heart. He knows what I desire. He knows what captivates me, what make my heart dream. He is familiar with my heart both in its baseness and its nobility.
My lips sing that the Lord has my heart–that my heart is captivated by, consumed with Him.
My mind speak the truth, my mouth what I wish to be the truth.
I close my musings with a resolution and a prayer:
And I will search for Yours
That I will seek His heart is a tacit confession that my heart is not His. I still desire my own gain, my own comfort, my own self. My heart is drawn to a hundred things that aren’t the heart of God.
But I want the heart of God, even if my heart disagrees.
Let my heart be taken prisoner, let it be enslaved. May my heart forever be behind bars, so long as it is a prisoner to the heart of God.
And with my heart your prisoner, I pray, take my body to be your slave:
Jesus take my heart and lead me on
A confession of a heart gone wickedly astray.
A confession of a soul longing to be disciplined by grace.
A confession of a woman who longs and does not long to be Christ’s slave.
“Batter my heart, three-personed God; for, you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I like a usurped town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but oh, to no end,
Reason your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived and proves weak or untrue,
Yet dearly’I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betrothed unto your enemy,
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I
Except you enthral me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.”
~John Donne, Holy Sonnet 14