Disciples

It was easy to make an idol of the thing I went without.

It was easy to let it silence me when I should have spoken out.

I should have spoken, so many times but I didn’t. I shrank.

Smaller and smaller and hidden within myself.

Running from truth, Running from conviction with my hands

Held over my ears so that I couldn’t hear

I couldn’t do what you wanted me to do

I couldn’t face the truth and consequences

of my words.

I took on heavy loads instead

Rules and regulations made by men’s hands

Burdens so great they bent me to the ground

Hands over my ears, never hearing

The Voice that was calling me to lay them down.

You weren’t looking for perfection

You wanted the dumb thing

With its hands around my throat

That I clutched too close

afraid to let  go

You wanted my heart

All of it.

You warred with me.

You wrestled.

Because you loved me

Because you are Love and War and Jealous, God!

And many waters will not quench love

Not even the wooden hands around my heart

You send fire and water,

The Burning Consolation

Of your Spirit.

And just like that I’m free.

Free to walk with you

by your Spirit Strength

not by my own power

but resting in Yours.

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