I wonder if when I look back I can see you had my back
Being there all long through thick, thin, right, wrong
Wanting more, but never in want, nothing good I lack
Here is my song, o my Lord, let me be on track.
"Here am I!" I yell out, so you start a-sendin'
Ascending my soul to highest mountains, Your love-unrelenting
Simplistic Gospel, never failing, healing hurt, sick, ailing
Yet you make me feel like an alien, here I cannot belong
I will lead and go and even follow, the world's pill- I will not swallow
And when I wallow, please take me back-Grace me with peace to stay on track
This fire flowing in my skin makes my mind wander again
What kind of love would take Deity, to human, make Him akin?
Sweet waves of Spirit, roiling tumble, causing me to stumble, fumble
What words to use? Though oft abused, I rejoice in Heavenly language.
Dancing, spinning, You're never ending
Be my last, my now and beginning
Of Your grace, freely spending
Of my flesh? You're only lending
Of my fate? It's not pending
Of my plans? Always rending
Of Your plans? You are hinting
To lose my life and in You find
My spine, my mind, my ques, my lines, my heart, my hands, my feet, my ties
Whoever said You're impersonal, lies.
___
Sometimes I like complete structure in poetry, but others... the real nitty-gritty lyrics that are tied to my actual life cannot be manipulated into a format. Call writing a love poem to Jesus girly or lame, but I am certain I have more joy in my life when I find my identity in a God-man who gave up everything He had to ransom my soul.
___
He is my all, I am His son
To make Him proud is what I have become
I strive and toil and work and strain
All day long but He said "That's in vain"
But like drugs to my vein I try all the more
Looking at my sin, I wanna even the score
Do better, read more, make the Bible my core
"All those are good, but do you truly want to soar?"
He speaks so gently, His voice I long for
Behold, all day long He knocks on the door
There is no handle on the outside
So He only asks for us to let Him inside
But I refuse.
I think I have too much to lose.
How can He come in when my house is a wreck?
Filthy with sin and darkness and the rest...
So I work and work and work and work
Checking under tables and beds and search
Thinking for Him to come in I must be the holiest
So I pretend that my life is whole and just
But it is not so with dirty rags I wipe
But they do not clean, they just smear my strife
My life is wasted how can I be better?
All the while He knocks, left out in my weather
With a mighty roar, yet like a gentle song,
He speaks, "Let me in, I will right all the wrongs."
Visions of glory then burst in my sight!
As my God and redeemer erases the night!
The dirt and the mire I once abused and admired
was washed by His love and now has inspired me
To work out of love which is who I aspire to be
Because lovers work better than those who are hired
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