I've noticed I only write good poetry when my heart feels cracked and broken. It makes me think maybe we only write anything moving when we face our own lack and shortcoming- our utter nothingness, and we write nothing powerful or redeeming unless we recognize in it our only hope, Him.

I think all of my real writing has begun in the same spot: Am I enough?

I find this same question in David's poetry, and I find the same answer my own heart's discovered many nights.

If the Lord had not been my help,
my soul would soon have lived in the land of silence.
When I thought, "My foot slips,"
your steadfast love, O Lord held me up.
When the cares of my heart are many,
your consolations cheer my soul.
Can wicked rulers be allied with you,
those who frame injustice by statute?
They band together against the life of the righteous,
and condemn the innocent to death.
But the Lord has become my stronghold
and my God the rock of my refuge.
Psalm 94:17-22

What comfort it is to know the Lord is on my side. I must merely trust Him, and who better to have hold my heart and my hand then my Maker. Though a man may swear to lay down his life for his love, the Lover of my Soul already has. He fights on my side. He's laid out His plans for He and I. I know they are good. And I know He's good to bring them about. Peace.