The Poetic Words of Submission

The bitter cloak of darkness; hiding me in the shadows of my own enmity. You speak softly to me; then a question burns inside. A question which questions the very realtity of which I base my questions on. Is this house I live in really a prison? Are the books I read tricking my mind? Are my friends really my enemies? Is what I cling to really my shackle? If I find myself captive what is it like to be free?

The sweet barrenness of white; untouched by the world. Unfathomed freedom; unhindered movement. My chains have been broken. My ties have been loosed. You have given me what I cannot buy. You have imparted what I cannot acquire. I have received a name, but not just a name. This name is my identity, my invitation, my citizenship. I am now acquainted with the confounding ecstasy of your peace and overwhelmed by the shear volume of your immensity. The image of your splendor grips me like mighty chains and wrestles my reluctant soul into submission.

Just when my spirit is liquefied by the fiery furnace of your love you begin to mold me. Pressing day in, day out, time after time, hammer blow after hammer blow, I become something I once was not. I become strong. It becomes clear to me that this life is not just a love story but a rescue mission. You first liberate, next you form, and then you send. Lord send me.

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