I’m not sure what happened that day when cynicism crept in,
Anger and mistrust seized my faith and I slept in,

Frozen by that demon in the darkness,
The one in the shadowy corners in the thoughtless,
Terrors of the evening, every night I’m dreaming.
But not like Martin Luther King Jr.
More like Edgar Allen Poe,
Shrunken to an ordinary Joe.
Not a giant, but a timid shadow.

Tightness in my chest,
Tremors in my breath,
Shaky hands and sweaty palms,
You’d think I was David, sweating out the Psalms!

God is good! God is great! And if that’s real, then why does my faith feel fake?

“Corona” hit and for a moment the world froze in place. Skies were clearer, streams got cleaner.
Visions of Eden within our man-made Armageddon.

Wars and rumors of wars,
Pestilence and darkness.
Now I’m feeling heartless.
A pent-up aggression,
What’s my obsession
With rhymes and rhythm…

I thought that salvation was earned, but it isn’t.
Scripture says otherwise, despite my wise…attempts to the contrary.

The passion comes and the passion goes,
To and fro like a raging sea.
In a turbulent tempest.
If my soul were a tapestry,
It’d be torn, battered, bruised, smudged,
And yet God would call it “Chosen.”

There it is…again…the desire to run from calling.
Scared of what it means to die for what you believe in. (Have you read Relevation?)

But what does it matter? If you’re living in constant fear – aren’t you already dead anyway?

Jesus saved me because he wanted to,
It’s not because of me or because of you.
Only because His glory shines brightest
In the darkest knights.

A knight in the King’s Court,
Waging war for the Lord.
Fighting daily battles against depression and anxiety,
The Holy Spirit inside of me.

Baptized and raised in His likeness, I believe.
May Christ reign supreme in me.
May His strength crush this enemy.

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