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
We could stay here resting
In the artificial peace of
Fooling ourselves into believing that
Just because we never complain,
Instead of making war against passivity
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.
On a Tuesday night we could be okay with
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.