Askew....a mark the enemy loves. Missions aimed at these two small spheres. Making a hard heart solid. Blocking what would clearly be truth. Father, relieve me. Clearly my heart can still breathe, or so it seems. Or should it be "releave" me? For i am low and you are love. But you cannot releave...you never left...
Why did you not go? I kill life in a bowl but you comfort me still. Life...it sits there already dead, so small and so fragile. Not me, but it...them? My heart clearly cries tears for the martyrs of mirth. Stuck in a bowl, no hope, no chance to live the life they could have lived. Or at least one.
I pray i dont kill, maim, or destroy. These chances of God can not go to waste. They are love, they are truth, they are posibilities living. I mourn for the ones that are gone but i will now rejoice for the ones to come, for they will not die in the bowl, but live elsewhere. Clearly...clearly life will begin.
Father,
Forgive, heal, erase. Please. Embrace, Care, nurture. Please. Give, Take, Bless. Please. Plan, Go, Live, Be, Create, Enjoy, Deliver, Remember, Delight, Cry, Laugh, Sing, Shine. Please. Love.
Your unworthy son
2 comments:
you have a contrite spirit.
i admire it.
I pray that you continue to use your gift of writing. I love you
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