Who can measure the human heart?
Who knows the depth of hope or love,
Dreams denied, empty yearning;
The mortal void forever unfilled.
Our hearts pulse, steady and strong,
Coursing life force through the smallest vesicle
While we mourn and struggle,
Breath held; life suspended.
Who can know the darkness of envy or hatred,
Or pettiness and self-destruction?
Bruised and bleeding,
We measure our life
According to our wants
And cannot be satisfied,
While other human hearts
We turn to prove
Flawed, unable to know and
Love us absolutely.
Who can measure the human heart?
Its strength or its failure,
How it sustains us, how it leads us astray.
Only, He, author of our miraculous, imperfect lives
Knows us and loves us.
Though human hearts fail us,
God’s does not,
Enfolding our yearning, imperfect
Wounded hearts into His own
Infinitely knowing and loving breast.
The restless at last resting,
Finally whole, in His, most perfect, Love. Amen sem
Grace to Laugh 
This is beautiful, Suzanne. “The restless at last resting” is my favorite line. If there was one word to describe me, restless might be it.
Suzanne, Thank you for sharing this, It is so beautifully written, and so very real. All of the bumps, bruises and painful breaks our hearts experience in this life can only be healed by the precious love of Jesus. He cared when we thought no one did, He loved us when we felt so unlovable. His love is boundless! Thank you for reminding us all.
It’s like Psalm 139 and such a comfort; thank you!