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A  STICK

 

A small burning stick

Pulled from the fire of this world,

At a specific point in time

A moment when all seemed lost,

A hand reached down

Untouched by the flames,

A hand reached down and pulled me out.

Along the path of mercy I now walk

Many stumbling lurches

Much disobedience and early ignorance of the holy words written

Common struggles of the flesh

Battles of the mind

Idolatrous worship of human beauty,

The captivating form and purpose

Exquisite mysteries of love to be unfolded,

Delight of all senses to be understood, appreciated,

Such pleasures of life in our bodies.

Yet, failure awakens anew at the end of each misstep

Tears of understanding blur the vision

But the heart knows at last

Seed of knowledge grown,

Before, in the early days, the heart somehow already knew;

All even as humanity still stumbles away from perfection

And the accuser points the finger.

But the Heavenly Throne rebukes in mercy

Tender reproof reminds of barren times

Fruitless days when there was no hope,

Reminds often of the finished work of Messiah the Faithful One,

Redeemer of mankind and Lord of Heaven and Earth,

Possessor, owner of this person, too

Who does stumble in ways as all others,

Who walks the fields

Fertile for harvest, for sowing and reaping

Yet, never looks back. 

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