Rebuild The Jagged Edges

Rebuild The Jagged Edges

Rebuild The Jagged Edges 3872 2592 Sarah Rennicke

Too early to rise, yet I am lulled out of bed, wide awake and aware stars still gleam in the sky.

Coffee quickly brewing in the kitchen, my lifeline. This is how I arrive today—heavy eyelids, leaking heart.

This is a lonely season of my life. I am weary from holding back this truth.

Tell me that the night will end. Tell me that the light will come.

Teach my heart to wait in You, to be still and trust.


All that is within me wants to see the other side right now, to know the goodness comes my way, that what I sow in rows of tears will reap an abundance of joy.

You are always good, but this does not feel good to my heart right now. How do I hope when days stretch to weeks, to months, and then I somehow notice it’s been years?

You alone know the ways I am to walk, where each step leads, the trails, the turns, the unmarked maps.

How do I listen through the din of despair, when I stare it straight in the eye, stand at its edge, rock my toes over the ledge? How do I be still to see You go before me to make a way where there is a wall?


You say I am to trust. Trust that You who split wide the sea and sent bread from the sky will see to Your faithfulness again.

I do not know how to wait for You much longer—it’s been so long that I’ve been walking in gray. Another day, my heart hopes quietly that today could be the day, but goes to sleep unfulfilled, disappointed that the awaited for has not arrived.

I grow jaded, exhausted from extending out my hope day in and day out to find it deferred in a perpetual rhythm. My heart is sick—You said it Yourself, how a heart can only take so much refusal before disease sets in. To lose belief is a slow, agonizing sickness, one that spreads and shakes the core with tremors. I lose the will to lift my heart and see what You may want today.


I am so tired of wanting.


“Be still before Me,” You speak into the quiet, predawn dream-state that wakes me with subtle, smooth renewal.

I am so tired of the strain of running on my own, attempting to fight this feeling of loss and distracting myself, trying, like a fool who runs to the same dead end once more, to make things happen.


I am afraid if I give up my dreams to You they will never come true.

That what You have in store won’t be what I had wanted.


Help me hand it over, the control of my life.

Unfurl my fist, open those scared places inside.

Where I see walls, You make a door.

What I deem impossible, you say, “Not so.”


What if I believe?

Dare to try again, just once more, to let You fight for me and begin to rebuild the jagged edges of my heart? The brittle bones broken in this battle?

All that’s required of me is to be silent. Sit in Your promise and remember You are faithful. Remember You’re the One who placed in me the pulse that is to yearn.

Stand firm one more day. Keep watch for deliverance, believe for the life You will bring.

Dare to believe. Hitch hope to who You are, for You are my God in whom this scarred soul chooses to rest.



Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the LORD will bring to you today… The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.

-Exodus 14:13-14


Sarah Rennicke

Sarah Rennicke loves words. She also loves people. And she loves weaving them together in honest and vulnerable ways. She loves slowing down and listening to the heartbeats of this world, exploring the hidden hopes and deepest fears tucked away in souls. She believes that God created imagination to truly see His handiwork, and that we are all desiring to be seen, known, and loved.

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