March 25, 2017

7:19 pm

Unreserved, unrestrained

Your love is wild, Your love is wild for me

It isn’t shy, it’s unashamed

Your love is proud to be seen with me.


You don’t give Your heart in pieces

You don’t hide Yourself to tease us


Uncontrolled, un-contained

Your love is a fire burning bright for me

It’s not a spark, it’s not just a flame

Your love is light, and all the world will see.


You don’t give Your heart in pieces

You don’t hide Yourself to tease us

You don’t give Your heart in pieces

You don’t give Yourself to tease us


Your love’s not fractured

It’s not a troubled mind

It isn’t anxious, it’s not the troubled kind

Your love’s not passive

It’s never disengaged

It’s always present

It hangs on every word we say

Lobe keeps its promises, it keeps it’s word

It honors what’s sacred, cause its vows are good

Your love’s not broken

It’s not insecure

Your love’s not selfish, Your love is pure.


Pieces – Amanda Cook, Bethel


I had a hard conversation with someone. And in this conversation, the person read these lyrics to me. They told me that their love is none of these things. In that moment, I realized that I am in the same boat.

My love is nothing like the Father’s love.

My love is reserved and restrained. Its shy and ashamed.

I give my heart in pieces. My love is fractured, it’s a troubled mind. My love is anxious, it’s the troubled kind.

My love is passive and disengaged. It doesn’t keep its promises, it doesn’t keep its word. It doesn’t honor what is sacred, and its vows are no good.

My love is broken.

My love is insecure.

My love is selfish.

My love is impure.


With my broken heart, I give out broken love.

It is reckless and irresponsible.

I crave a deep love from the Father, but instead chase down earthly, momentary satisfaction.

Out of my brokenness, I readily break others.

My big heart is a gift from God, I know this.

But it is tattered and worn. It is broken.

For so long I have refused Papa to heal it, to truly stitch it up.

What could be used for so much good, is being used to bring damage and destruction to the hearts of my brothers and sisters.

My love is selfish and impure.

I pick and choose which part of my heart I want to share. I give it in chunks, but never wholly. God gives us the whole thing. His whole entire heart. How convicting is that?

My love is shy and ashamed. Sometimes I find myself walking with my tail tucked between my legs, feeling the weight of the deepest shame on my shoulders.

My love can never be made perfect, for I am sinful by nature. But until I let God be God and allow Him to mend my brokenness, my love will remain hurtful and imperfect.

“Hurt people hurt people.”

I am a hurt person.

But I don’t want to hurt people anymore.

Oh, God, give me a pure heart.

I’m letting You in.

Take away this shame and replace it with restoration and grace.

Let me become more like You.

2 thoughts on “Pieces

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