Morning fight with a demon

The Lord woke me up this morning and I could barely get out of bed,

I could barely clear my head,

I could barely find my legs.

The lord gave me breath this morning

and I could barely breathe.

Asthmatic deep heave,

clutching my spirit to wheeze.

Grief is an infectious disease. Inviting death

unless

we take our cross and we leave.

Lest we choose faith

we are deceived.

Lest we fight, we scath, we scratch, we bleed.

We attach, we weave

just to shave bald and yet tweeze.

Floor to my knees,

I pray, I fight

with all my might

to flee and be set free.

What a mighty God we serve.

I swerve

temptation for destiny.

“why is death so pleasing to me?”

To work no more in heavenly peace.

Do you have any idea

how tired one must be?

To consider greet?

To kiss life complete

On its cheek?

Do you know how much stronger one must be?

To claim no fret,

God’s not done yet.

No shame, no debt, no gamble, no bet.

Just surety of his authority

that the Greater in me, is worthy so worthy

With much to reap and so much to sow.

So far gone and so much further to go.

Metal hook attached, I pull, I tow

Walk on water or row the boat

Less to tell and more to

Show

Take your cross and be gone

Take your cross and go.

Author: Sharlene Green

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