All I can do is hold out my heart.

All I can do is hold out my heart.

I hold it out with fear and trembling, the longing heavy and unfulfilled for so long. 

Like a sack of dry soil.

What may be desert barrenness in the eyes of the world

I believe hides thousands of seeds.

Seeds of life and hope and believing.

Oh, let the rain come.

I still hold out my heart.

It is a flame of fire, unquenchable, sealed with a promise.

Deep crying out to deep, a source and an answer.

I hope in my heart.

I fervently press in and anchor my eyes on the hills.

Not to the mirror, not to my plans and schemes.

Not to the ways my imagination entreats.

I look beyond myself to my Father who hears, who deeply cares for me. This I trust and try
            to cement, to endure, to stand on.

All I can do is hold out my heart.

           I keep my love on for God and for the trespassers. I hold onto it for myself in the midst of

           failure. 

           I hold onto it with joy and perseverance, when the sun is long hid behind clouds, knotting  

           down, and moon haunts the shadows for fear it will not find its way home. 

I hold out my heart.