Posted by: duncandrews | May 1, 2009

Words

Too often I speak when I shouldn’t speak,dove
I’m quiet when I should cry out.
My own glory I love to seek
but the fierce love of God I doubt.
Fierce because it all-consumes;
nothing is left, nothing resumes
as it was when That voice it out.

My tongue gives fire when it should be cool
and dampens what should be ablaze.
I fear of seeming Christ’s fool;
my words all seem to be a haze
of insecurity and pride
not knowing how deep and how wide
is Christ’s love, and that I’m his tool.

His tool to be used for his good sake
in open, vulnerable, robust love.
Oh Holy Spirit, come in and break
and re-make me, beautiful dove.
And then, perhaps, I’ll be able to speak
as you will, neither brash nor weak,
but your glory alone will be enough.

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Responses

  1. Awesome poem Bro.

    “Christ’s fool” .. that’s a great descriptor.

    • Thanks Stu,
      Yeah, I like the image too. although it’s a pretty scary idea…


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