There is something in me, a restless scampering.
My eyes, on frantic search for my heart’s pampering?
From person to person my heart is on the hunt,
Desperate to gain that for some pain I may blunt?
Does it depend on me to find what brings me peace?
I fear that if that’s true, this hunt will never cease!
If the pitcher inside is empty as I feel
Have I poked holes in it? Or is something else real?
Am I using people to get what God can give?
If that’s true, no wonder my heart feels like a sieve!
It seems that my giving that wants to fill my friend,
Is laced with self, in hopes, that my pain I transcend.
But there’s a deeper thirst that calls my heart to rest!
Where scampering’s absurd, madness, a crazed fool’s quest!
I know the place my heart can find its place to rest.
The Father’s heart, His Son, His love for me expressed.