He Listens

“Give ear to my words, O LORD, consider my sighing.
Listen to my cry for help, my King and my God,
for to you I pray.
In the morning, O LORD, you hear my voice;
in the morning I lay my requests before you
and wait in expectation” (Psalm 5:1-3).

Jesus, the Lord, sits on a flat rock, comfortably.
In my imagination I approach.
How will he receive me?
Warmly he smiles, lovingly his eyes look.
I sit at his feet.

“ O LORD, you hear my voice . . . “
Jesus, Lord of creation, of eternity, listens.
As if I am alone of all men,
as if my words are weighty,
needing hearing.
He attends to my speaking,
without a hint of disinterest.
The Lord listens.

“ . . . in the morning I lay my requests before you”.
I give words to my weakness, admit my fears
and ask him to heal.
But more than requesting his help
I tell him my mind, my heart.
Though he is Lord, he listens as friend.
I unburden my soul.
Not once does he turn away
“O LORD, you hear my voice.”

Here, on my mind’s hillside, is the throne of grace.
I come as if a little child,
but a child of the King.
So I come expecting (like a child)
to receive mercy and grace to help
in my time of need
“ . . . and wait in expectation.”

 I remember a younger man,
who thus prayed often.
Not a carefree man
(the cares of his flock were heavy).
But healthy and strong he was–
capable, expectant.
He’s turned old, ill, weak,
needing care.
His feelings darker, words heavier.
But the Lord listens.

Now:  I’ve outpoured my heart to him.
He still sits, eyes searching my soul,
smile warm and caring,
hand on my shoulder resting.
His eyes mist, bringing tears to mine.
“O LORD, in the morning you hear my voice”. 

All for now has been said; he bids me go.
Outwardly, nothing’s changed.
Weakness is still mine.
Death still threatens.
But for moments, I’ve sat in a safe place,
a peace-place of hope.
The Lord has listened.
I go–to wait in expectation.
To see what he may yet do.
I go knowing he knows—
and somehow he stays with me.