Thus saith the LORD, “Cursed be the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart departeth from the LORD. For he shall be like the heath in the desert, and shall not see when good cometh; but shall inhabit the parched places in the wilderness, in a salt land and not inhabited.
Jeremiah 17:5-8
“Blessed is the man that trusteth in the LORD, and whose hope the LORD is. For he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall not see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be green; and shall not be careful in the year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit.”
(Seriously – you should actually read the text. If you’re on this page, reading the words the Spirit supernaturally spoke through Jeremiah the prophet is way more important than reading the words I scribbled in my journal and then typed on my computer.)
It’s me too.
In your story,
I hear mine.
Details differ,
Characters contrast,
Factors vary –
But at the very center,
The heart of all
The chaos, striving,
Restlessness, anxiety,
Troubled doubt
And discontent
Insecurity,
We’re the same,
You and me.
We trust in man,
Whether other or self.
We count human weakness
Our greatest strength.
I can do
He can do
She can do
They can do
For me
Whatever I deem
Necessary
For my security.
I’ll be happy,
Satisfied,
Complete,
If I just…
If he just…
If she just…
If they just…
My heart turns
Away from Life
And Strength
And Peace
To worship at altars
Of my own construction,
Blind to the source
Of self-destruction –
Attempts to alter,
Order, rule my world
Secure my rest
Purchase my pleasure
Defend my treasure.
I fear the absence
Or the loss
Of what I deem
Precious
Because I know
I cannot be
He cannot be
She cannot be
They cannot be
Strong enough
Wise enough
Efficient enough
Attractive enough
Empowered enough
To procure or to secure
The object of my desire.
Jeremiah’s curse is just.
We face seasons
Of scorching heat
With well-founded
Fear and anxiety.
Roots of trust
That spiral into
Desert sand
Cannot stand
The year of drought.
We wither and fade
From trusting man.
We will not see
The good we crave
In wilderness
And barren waste.
We will not bear
The fruits of love
As shriveled, dying
Desert shrubs.
Mercy without measure –
You do not leave us
To the ruin
Of pursuing
Desert treasure.
Mirage of promise
Trusting man
Will vanish.
The one who trusts the Lord
Is planted by a stream.
Anxiety must dissipate,
By the gift
Of faith alone replaced
With confidence
In Providence,
Relentless Your benevolence,
Unending strength of sustenance.
You will always be
Strong enough
Wise enough
Efficient enough
Attractive enough
Almighty enough
To give and to protect
My comfort, peace,
And lasting rest,
Security,
And fruitfulness.
Leaves in drought
Remaining green
Draw from a source
Of Life unseen.
The hottest blast
Cannot consume
The heart that rests
In trusting You.