Melanie Leach Photography, 2014

Melanie Leach Photography, 2014

We could stay in this all day
Swinging in and out of spiritual boredom
Settling for plateaus
And hands half lifted
And feet standing still
As if the gravity of Heaven weren’t buzzing beneath
And royal crowns of glory weren’t being pressed upon our brows
Healing even the small scars and the pinched nerves

We could stay here
And we could “praise” the Lord
Waiting, really, for the enemy to hand out crap
Instead of trekking through the mud to find
The gold.

We could stay here resting
In the artificial peace of 
Fooling ourselves into believing that 
Just because we never complain,
We’re okay,
Instead of making war against passivity
And suppression.

Why don’t we step in the frigid cold
Or the scorching heat and wait for the temperature 
To shift toward glory?

Why don’t we open ourselves to  
That has nothing to do with endeavors
And everything to do with

The way his eyes look at me.
And the way his words calm my spirit.

He allows me to compare my soul to the winds and the rain
And the waves
To whom he simply tells to, “hush”.

We are in his jurisdiction
And he is in control.

And we could be okay with that.

Just that.
On a Tuesday night we could be okay with
His control.

Like when he says to write, write.

Like when he says to rest, rest.

Like when he says to sing, sing.

Like when he says to dance, dance.

Like when he says to live, live.