the posture of the weak

Will my fearing, unfaithful grip allow your will to unravel? Is that the doubt that the enemy dangles in front of Emilie’s life? Here I am Lord, so inspired by You. Is the divinity you have planned for my life in the overturning of temptation? Here I am Lord, fighting a battle on this passage of time. I dream of a fight that possesses the inequity of sin’s illusion to Your said uncompromising power. Lord tonight outline the constellations for me, not the streetlights. Whisper “beyond”. Entangle me in your perfection. Tell me how it is to love You now that I have loved the world. Lift every scent of  unquenced desire away from the peel of my life. Let my heart cease to be a brothel, bought by the world for a few minutes, and then deserted in the creases of dark and dying. Let your people’s cries deafen my selfishness and burden my head as it lies down on its unhumbled throne of security. Abba, Father, You will see it done.

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