Far too long ago I promised to share more poetry and then I promptly did not. In all honesty it feels like maybe a few weeks to me. In reality it was nearly half a year ago that I confessed I may have some level of anxiety. So I reiterate that this is not a cry for help (I know Who can help me) nor am I trying to stir up drama. Nothing is going on, I haven't done anything rash ... I am simply sharing some of the internal dialog in case in helps someone else fine the One Whom my Help comes from.
|Photo by Mitchel Lensink on Unsplash|
I recognize my flaws
and hope You'll whisk them away.
The seasons whisper "change"
yet I remain the same.
This was a struggle I wanted to win!
Here I am on my knees, again.
In my heart I know
Your way is better.
That same heart tightens, despising the fetter
Prone to wander.
"Help me, Lord"
I forget what to pray.
I don't like when the answer is "wait."
What do I do when Your early
God I know that the battle is won,
but what of the wounds and the damage I've done?
The chaos inside heeds One whisper
Be still and cease striving.
Be still child of storms.
Be still as the waves who obeyed him.
recognize He is Lord.
to the worrisome voices.
to all but the Truth.
Tremble but be grieved no longer.
Keep your trust in the One Who is Good.
The work He has for you is easy.
Your part of the burden is light.
The portion for you will come daily.
Plant your feet on the path where illuminated.