There is little heroic about guarding one’s heart. Certainly there is a time and place as the Lord leads..but mostly we do it for self. He knows it stunts our freedom….and honestly Him in and through us. We must let Him go deep…for full freedom..not just for ourselves but for others…for life from death…for LOVE’s sake…for His name sake. Love withheld is not His love at all. For His Love is FULL and flowing regardless of vulnerability. Willing to risk self…willing to pay the price. Willing to drink from His cup. Willing to lay our hearts transparently out there to be trampled…should it be what is needed to show His grace to others in need of Him.

The Wall

There is a wall Lord in my heart
It’s silent, but I know it’s there.
It’s nestled deep no one can see
But I sense your longing stare.

Calling my gaze to an inward look
At protection I’ve put in place
You say this wall it must all fall
To take in more love and grace.

But Lord it’s but small let’s overlook it all
For its a place of deepest hurt.
Yes, my daughter I know thy need
And still we must have a look.

You see this wall it’s growing tall
And it’s strength is taking root.
It guards thy heart from those in need
Afraid of future wounds.

You think on it not yet still I see
It cripples your freedom walk
But if you’ll lay it on the altar
I promise to take care of it all.

I know my Lord but I thought that I
Could handle it on my own.
I’ve worked so hard so it won’t grow tall
Yet it’s towering a rooted wall.

But what if, Lord, Satan’s bruise
stays tender and all exposed?
I am uncertain that I could stand
Another of his painful blows.

Daughter, I see thy fear of heart
But, let me remind thee well
Upon the cross I thought of you
Naked and pierced with nails.

Love that I give endureth all
The sorrow and all the pain.
Past, present, and future hurts
Are covered by healing rain.

The love that sent me to the cross
was love for all mankind.
Bruised and broken
Maimed and scarred
Rejected, scorned, and tried.

Yet love did not stop as I carried the cross
Towards the place of death.
For the very same love
That pours from Thy cup
Will endure to love once again.

–Shelly Wilson