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Writer's pictureJoe de Swardt

Raw Prayer of Struggle




God of glory, vast and wild,

Here I am—broken, lost, a child.

I’m not chasing power, not chasing fame,

Just exhausted from this endless game.

The world shouts loud with all its lies,

Ambition, pride, and empty highs.

But I’m done with all they have to sell,

I’m desperate for something real, past this shell.


Teach me how to lean on You,

When I’ve got no clue what else to do.

Not through my strength or clever schemes,

But let me drink from Your unseen streams.

And not quench or grieve Your heart.


Rip away my foolish pride,

The restless urge to run or hide.

Harmonize each plan and every fire,

Even when You prune, even when I fall— Shape me, break me, Lord of all.


Help me find You in this mess,

Draw me to that hidden place of rest.

In quiet acts and mundane days,

Or when the ground shakes and the thunder quakes,

Let my every move reflect Your pace.


I’m done with worship that’s just words,

With empty thoughts and rituals absurd.

Give me something real that shakes my core,

With every breath, every ache—show me more.

Let me see the love You make.


Guard my mind from all this noise,

From every fake and empty voice.

Pull me from his and my own grip of lies,

I want Your truth that never dies.


All I am, I lay it down,

Wrestle me ‘til I’m limping still—

Drive a nail through every pride and thrill.

Here’s my broken crown, my heavy frown,

I’m not chasing glory for myself,

But something deeper, truer, not found on any shelf.


Teach me how to run this race,

With scars that tell of Your saving grace.

Let my faith be more than what I speak,

Let it be dirt and sweat and beauty streaked,

A rugged road, a spirit meek.


Align my heart with what You see,

Let Yours be the only world I seek.

Past every mask, every fear, every veil,

Through every fight and every fail,

Keep reminding me of who You are—

Not a distant God, but close and scarred.


God of glory, raw and real,

Meet me here, I need to feel.

In this raw encounter, no show, no sham,

To live this wild faith as I truly am,

A messy life that points to You—

All the battles, scars, and breakthroughs.


Oh, beautiful, fierce, relentless God,

You are power, gentle, good, and odd.

Wise, mysterious, beyond my grasp,

Kingdom come, Your truth I clasp.

Life in You is all I crave,

For You alone are strong to save.

Intimacy, God, intimacy, Lord,

Break my heart open, nothing more.


Amen.

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Wow Joe. What a poem.


The rawness of the war that goes on in our Being is so clearly expressed. You are so courageous in your willingness to sit with the war within and then eloquently use the words to honestly express what some of us are too scared to speak. Well done 👏


The violence of the war that goes on within humans is so crazy, and what is more astounding is we too stubborn and fearful to let it go even if we are aware that we have a gentle place of love to fall into. A place of rest and peace that gives us a break from the violent onslaught of our internal programming. Oh to be…


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God of glory, vast and wild,

Here I am—broken, lost, a child.

I’m not chasing power, not chasing fame,

Just exhausted from this endless game.

The world shouts loud with all

But I’m done with all they have to sell,

I’m desperate for something real, past this shell.

But I’m done with all they have to sell;

I’m desperate for something real, beyond this shell.


Thank you so much, Joe, for giving me a real experience of life through your words. I love the poem—it is raw, yet poised in love and expectancy. Not expectation—and I love that distinction.


I, too, am desperate for something real, beyond this shell.

This shell is all that’s offered within the dualistic paradigm. But…


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