I’m teetering on the fulcrum of selfish safety and Godly goodness.
I have a big decision to make-
I’ve been craving God’s word in the first-world like the third-world craves nourishment.
The whirlwinds of life seem to ebb-and-flow like waves of the ocean;
By bringing life-giving oxygen, and tearing away useless branches and limbs as I go.
I continue to be drawn;
Drawn to the starry night when it’s coldest and dry.
Seeking movement when it’s most difficult to see.
I yearn to crack impermeable shells.
In the darkness, I am reflecting light.
Silence calls me to speak.
Finding reference in rapture.
I am called now, to step.
But how to I dive from the dock and swim for open water?
I know my Savior will save me, but to what degree do I prepare?
How will I float when my body expires?
How can I know I won’t be left desperately choking for air?
My hope and peace rest solely in my helmet of salvation.
I have little, but what I do have is the cloak and armor of my God.
I have the sword of the spirit sewn into my soul.
My frame will flex with the breastplate of righteousness as I kneel before my creator.
I will tread slowly forward, willingly;
My shield of faith will deflect darts out of the darkness,
As my feet carry me with the gospel of peace.
I look forward to the steps in front of me.
There are few, but their number is unassociated with their stature.
I look forward to falling faithfully.
Praying blessings on those who need it more than me.