Self-Righteous Doubt

O Lord of Lords,
How my soul desires and needs the Comforter
To drive away weariness and bestow healing.
Long have I suffered
Under the critical eye and contentious tongue
Of my ruthless enemy.
The never-ending questioning of my passion
And the distrust of my knowledge of Your love
Have worn me to the bone.
The scolding of my sensitive and gentle nature
Has prompted me to flood my bed with tears
And made my eyes weak with sorrow.

How long, O Lord, how long?
But I will remember the kindness of my Savior

And His promise to take my burden and give me rest.

And yet I will remember this also:

That our enemy, that old serpent, called the Devil,

Is labelled the accuser of the brethren.

So here I stand accused, O God,

A finger pointed at my spiritual welfare;

A self-righteous doubt of my love for You.

But You know, Lord, You know,

And to my enemy you gently but firmly declare,

"Let Him without sin cast the first stone."