Condemnation

 

The Valley

I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

       The chain of Satan wrapped ‘round my neck.

             It rubs and chafes and splits my skin,

                     My soul asunder, my heart a wreck.

My tears no longer leave a trail,

       My throat is dry, I cannot wail.

             The flame of hope flickers low within,

                     It gasps for breath in a stone cold jail.

Which path goes up? Which path goes down?

        What road leads in? What road leads out?

               I feel my mind engulfed in sin.

                     “Help!” I scream. “Send aid!” I shout.

Though I travel through the valley of death,

         I fear no evil, screeching breath.

               My soul is Yours, You dwell within.

                      My comfort is Your rod and staff.

Prejudicial

We all stumble on different rocks,

gasp for air in different seas,

cannot escape a different box,

tumble down from different trees.

Our struggles seem worlds apart.

Are mine harder than yours?

All of them have taxed our hearts.

Every face has felt tears pour.

Although your sea was fathoms deep,

my tree to climb was miles high.

Please hold my hand when it is steep

and I'll hold yours in times you cry.

Masterpiece

No child in this universe comes to be by chance. God picked up His needles and made a masterpiece. He knew you would get worn out. He knew you would become tattered and broken, but that didn't scare Him. For He knew that He had created you strong enough to withstand the storms. He sewed within you bravery, love and perseverance. He buttoned you up with joy and zipped you shut with compassion. He supplied you with patches of forgiveness for when the people around you tear holes through your skin. He pins you up on his clothesline of grace, so that the winds of love can dry the tears from you faded, beaten cheeks. And a day will come when He will pick you up, from where you limply lay, and wash away all the dirt, mar and wounds from the world. He will take you home to be cherished and He will give you rest. 

The warrior’s eyes are wide and wild,

As into danger’s face she stares.

You could not guess her heart was pounding.

You could not see that she was scared.

She took her stance, tall and strong.

Darkness was unprepared,

By the courage she possessed,

The beautiful heart she proudly bared.

I let me slip

And now they tread

So light and far away

So scared I’ll trip

And lose my head

No trust that I am sane

I didn’t flip

My mind’s not dead

Please give me trust again

                                 
Guilt is a disease. A slow                                   .
infection spread by evil                                    
deeds. It burrows it's vile                                
head underneath your                                        
exposed chest and eats                                  
away at your heart.                                      
The memory of evil festers                        
and grows into an                                             .
unsurmountable mass.                                      
You can act perfect,                                          
unblemished, but deep down,                          
guilt says you are
unforgivable, irredeemable
until, slowly, you begin to
believe it.


Redemption is a medicine
it seeps into your soul,
clearing the muck.
It does not rid you of guilt,
but encases it and locks it away,
allowing joy and light to burst
forth from within. You may not
be perfect
You may be blemished.
But you are forgiven.
You are redeemed.