Are our ears actively dulled?
Do conditional queues quicken or quell?
Or do they bring with it questionable fears or tears?
Is it a fathom pho pas or manic messiness?
No, merciless meandering are measuring me.
If our standard measures ourselves, we fall and fail, or
fake it.
If our standard is that of God’s perfection, we fail all the
more.
I looked into a dulled mirror only to see imperfection laid deep
within. Though I look intently into the perfect law of liberty, my mind refuses
to give in, it fights submission. Through a war hard fought or hardly fought,
facts fizzle and fears fade. I would that I would really fear the Holy One. For
there find I hope.
Through a Father’s love, the fog on the mirror clears and reappears.
Written in the haze these words appear, “For God so loved the world….”
In a hard fought war, death brought certain victory.
Victorious, the Son, raised in newness of life takes up my
war and defeats my enemy.
Though self fights hard he will one day yield. And if I kill
him today, again he’s there tomorrow.
Now this I say, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit
the kingdom of God
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