My heart is like a honeycomb.
Tiny pockets filled with things that make their home in me.
Things in the future, things in the present,
things that are merely remnants
of a past that is no longer me.
Things I don’t even know,
places I don’t even go.
Things that are true, things that are a lie,
things that are more than meets the human eye.
My heart is filled with so many things
that need to be scooped out,
that need to be replaced with Christ Himself.
I get lost in myself, trying to figure my heart out,
which is why He sweeps in me
like a woman searching for a lost coin.
I want to do the seeking myself, but I get torn,
and that’s when I realize that in myself,
I know nothing about feeling at home.
I don’t know myself,
proven by my wandering,
lost in all the pockets I find, seek, hide and keep.
But He knows exactly where to go, what to touch.
He knows me best, searching my deepest depths,
knowing my heart, melting my heart