Prompt Poetry - Low Heart, High Throne

A bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench. Isaiah 42:3 Lyrics Shout out Dane Ortlund You right, brother We don’t believe this stuff Not really We say grace Then flinch when it touches us Low heart High throne Christ enough I’m not my own Dim flame Bruised reed He moves close When shame speaks Low heart High throne Love stays When feelings go Christ enough Christ enough I can rest I can know I been weighing my soul on a broken scale Checking my pulse by the way I feel Sun up, I’m saved Night down, I’m frail Faith like a paper boat caught in hail I call it discernment But it’s fear in a robe Autopsy my heart Tryna find some gold Pull up my motives Dissect my prayers Ask if He loves me Then stare downstairs But He is not pacing the floor Not disappointed behind the door Not warming His wrath for the poor Not less than He was before He does not bruise what is already bent Does not despise what is barely lit Does not retreat from the ache I bring Gentle and lowly — heart of the King Not my hands Not my plans Not my highs Not my stands Not my tears Not my zeal Not my grip Not what I feel Christ enough Christ enough Christ enough Still We believe grace Till grace gets near Till mercy starts naming the thing we fear We preach “He loves sinners” Then whisper “not me” Like His heart got limits Like the cross got weak I keep trying to clean up Before I come home As if blood was a loan As if love was a throne I could climb to alone But the Doctor walks into the ward Doesn’t wait outside with a clipboard Doesn’t say, “Get well, then come forward” He touches the sore He opens the door Come heavy Come hollow Come haunted Come slow Come guilty Come empty Come tired Come low The Son shows the Father The Father says, “Mine” The Spirit says, “Child” In the courtroom inside My feelings flicker His mercy doesn’t My performance moves His promise doesn’t My heart accuses His blood answers My grip loosens His hand doesn’t So I stop tryna earn what was nailed to the wood Stop calling Him distant when He calls me good Not good in myself Good in the Son Robe on my shoulders Finished and done And I fight now different Not panic, but peace Not “love me, Lord” But “Lord, You love me” Not chasing a verdict The verdict came first Not singing for water I sing from the thirst That already got met In the wounds of the Word Grace ain’t fragile Love ain’t thin Christ didn’t save me To lose me again So when I’m up, Christ When I’m down, Christ When I doubt, Christ When I drown, Christ When I feel nothing Still, Christ When I bring nothing Still, Christ Enough in the morning Enough in the night Enough when my faith Is a match in the wind Gentle and lowly Again and again Final Refrain Low heart High throne Christ enough I’m not my own Dim flame Bruised reed He moves close When shame speaks Love holds Fear folds Grace runs Deep wells Christ enough Christ enough I can rest It is well We don’t believe this stuff But He does He believes His mercy More than I believe my shame And He loves His own To the end