"Oh to Grace how great a debtor
daily I'm constrained to be.
Let thy goodness, like a fetter
bind my wandering heart to Thee!"

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Most Assuredly.

Listen. I can work really hard
to try and pretend,
that my flesh and my skin
don't want to depend
on worldly definitions
to define and defend
the most coveted of all:
my reputation before men.

But then,
I'd be lying and deceiving myself.
Denying a disease while it eats at your health,
is like a poor man pretending he is of great wealth.
All the while, the truth is not stealth.

Hold that veneer up to the fire
and see how long 'til it melts.

You see, as a Christian the truth must prevail,
no matter how hazy or masquerading the veil.
My fate is not floating around in the air.
My Father has bought me.
No room for despair.

So then why do I feel confusion of sorts?
Searching among men bound to a nature of torts
to find something only found in my Father's courts?

My soul longs for comfort. My mind longs for rest.
For a time void of trivial talking and jest.
Maybe I've just been distracted to death?
Or at least the time being, and now all thats left
is a longing for His grace to give me new breath.

Most assuredly, breath that I do not deserve.
The kind that was given to the dry bones in His word.

But it's so easy to give into the notion
that I deserve more, after all this devotion.
My child please take time to reflect
on Christ Jesus our Lord
who for the sake of the elect,
endured the wrath of His Father
and took on a gross death.

All the while, He sinned not.
Let me say that again:
While Jesus walked on this earth,
He did so without sin.

The Lord sent His son because WE cannot do it.
We cannot satisfy God's wrath for our sin
and that is all there is to it.

So why do I think I have something to offer?
Like I have to run around this earth pretending to be the potter?
'Til that one day
I realize I'm the clay.
The Lord takes that luster
and strips it away.
I'm left standing there,
dirty and gray.
Nothing to say.
Hand over my mouth as my facade fades away.

Oh but it hurts down to my inner most being.
Pruning the vine. Faith without seeing.
Unrest and regret turns into pleading.
That I may hold fast to the scripture I'm reading.

Sanctification: what a wonderful word.
Its fires are hot, but be not deterred:
It's a promise you'll see all that which you've heard.

Sovereignty is not just something we preach.
As though when trials come, our doctrine retreats.
Instead dig down deep,
though in sorrow you weep,
into the Promises our Father, most assuredly, keeps.