From The Desk of David

Pain’s a whisper, then it turns to a shout,
It creeps in like a thief when you’re filled with doubt.
I used to think the hurt was where the truth resides,
But that’s a lie that the serpent fed to twist my mind.
See, I’m haunted by the ache like it’s part of my skin,
Like I’m shaped by the struggle and the mess I’m in.
But if pain’s the painter, man, what does it show?
Just a canvas of brokenness, no room to grow.
Nah, there’s more to the story than the scars we bear,
The cross told me something that was never clear.
He hung there, arms wide, took the weight of the curse,
Turned the pain into purpose, what was last became first.

See, I used to think the suffering spoke louder than grace,
But that’s the mask that we all wear, can’t see His face.
Like Jay said, we hustlin’, tryna find peace in the storm,
But the storm just a tool, man, to keep us reborn.
It was Kendrick who said us pain’s the language of life,
But the Word showed me Jesus took that blade from the knife.
Temptation in the tears, like the devil’s disguise,
Telling me to worship the pain, not the one who’s wise.
But that wood on His back wasn’t just for the pain,
It was for joy, for the glory, for the freedom we gain.
Now I’m living proof, scars don’t tell me who He is,
It’s the blood that was shed that reminds me I’m His.

Like Kanye said, we wrestle with the image in the glass,
But it’s His reflection, man, that’s built to last.
The temptation to believe that the hurt is the key,
Is just the enemy tryna blind what I see.
But the cross was a plot twist, flipped the whole script,
Turned death into life, made the sinner uplift.
Yeah, He took the nails, let the blood run free,
But He rose from the grave, gave the blind sight to see.
Now my soul ain’t defined by the wounds of my past,
The cross speaks louder, that’s the word that’ll last.

So the pain we feel ain’t the final word spoken,
It’s just a crack where the light starts pokin’.
The nature of God ain’t framed by the hurt,
It’s framed by the love that brought life from the dirt.
Yeah, like they say, we draftin’ our fears,
But the final edit’s found when His love draws near.
So I’m layin’ down my burden, redefining the page,
The cross tells me freedom, not just rage in a cage.
Now the scars that I carry, they point to the King,
The pain wasn’t wasted, it was shaping this thing.

Pain doesn’t define Him, the cross tells me true,
God is still good, even when we’re bruised.
I saw Him bleed, now I see the light,
Through the pain, came the day, turned the dark into bright.