Justin’s Psalm

Some call me David, some call me Justin.

It seems as if my heart is constantly adjusting

To the pain and darkness within the world,

And other’s sins that are current and mine of old.

I was made by the King of Kings,

To be a king within the Kingdom.

But never seem to find my heart’s freedom.

Shackled to the past but forgiven,

Holding the keys but not living.

Twenty eight but trembling like I’m eight,

Crying on the floor, laying prostrate.

Reading the book of Psalms as a child,

I wondered how God could use a heart so wild.

Up, down, left, right.

Fallen, broken, warrior but living upright.

Can’t take my fight,

I won’t give up my birthright.

The firstborn of five and called to be the leader of many,

Overwhelmed by my inadequacy but others still follow me.

How long can one run from the call on their life?

How long can one silence a pen meant to write?

How long will I wait?

Where is God in the midst of all of this?

Where is my faith in the abyss?

Where is my hope?

Where is my King?

Where is the heart that chose to wear this ring?

Where is the man that rose from the grave?

Where is the boldness of the man that’s been saved?

Wake up, O Sleeper.

Come alive, O Dreamer.

Some call me David, some call me Justin.

A righteous one that’s constantly adjusting.

And here I am, learning to be unapologetic,

Steadying a heart that’s turbulently prophetic.

Ready your sails for the Word is coming,

Breath breathed from Heaven,

Spoken word from the lips of man done running,

Uncapped the pen, unleashed the heart.

The Spirit is here and He won’t depart.

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