A contemplative song of Tekoa:
Who has been there for me?
You, oh King of righteousness.
Who has seen and counted my tears?
You, oh, compassionate One.
Who has held me in the night and strengthened my bones?
Who has known my heart of sorrow and sent a newborn fawn–when the morning birds sang louder than my cries.
None but you, oh great Creator of the Dawn.
Who has weighed my sins on just scales? No one but you, oh, Lord of Host–Adonai Tzva’ot.
Who has known me from the womb in the secret place? Who has made my mouth like a sharpened sword? You, oh, Lover of my soul.
Who has covered me from the violent storms when I shook with fear? You, oh Yah of Strength.
You came with oil, anointed my wounds, and bathed me in light and sweet perfume. When I bowed lowly before the desert lands in quietness and humility, You poured my tears upon my head like a mighty washing stream.
You who fly on Cherubs with mighty wings.
Whose Voice booms with thunder or is like the sound of a whisper in spring
when the buds bloom and the seeds sprout, you call my name with a shout, TEKOA!
Oh, Abba, can you come again and quiet my soul from this place of death? Wrap me in death and let me arise on the day when those you know come out of the grave.
Shout to me as Your Son did to Lazarus.
Remove my grave clothes.
Unwrap these garments of death and breathe on Your servant Ruach breath–LIFE.
Do not forsake me in my sorrow and forget me in my suffering—do not wall out my prayers.
Come swiftly and give me songs.
Who else has balm and medicine for my wounds?
None but You, Oh, Healer of my soul.
Remove my reproach and hide me in the secret place, for I am weary and tired.
Their razors cut me, and their teeth punctured my heart at a time when I gave birth.
This, too, was for my good.
Just as the pit, the prison, and the false accusations were too for my good. In shackles in prison, you have quietened my soul as a baby weaned from milk.
I need You, oh, I need You. More than food, water, and fleshly men. More than money or castles built on sinking sand. More than laughter and joy and diamonds and pearls. Abba, Daddy, I need you in order to live.
Oh, grief, you are bitter. And rejection is cruel, but who can stand before jealousy? Their arrows have pierced me through.
Your servant is weary, and how can I not be?
I need you, oh I need you like one thirsty with death. I need you, oh, I need You, please come give me rest. Wrap me in death and let me arise on the day when those you know come out of the grave.
Yah is with me, like a mighty Warrior, and the shout of a King is in me. I will arise like the dawn on resurrection morning.