God I'm struggling.
It's become so hard to ignore
The sin that's prowling outside my door
The lion wants nothing more
Than to steal, kill and destroy.
Of course it's all a ploy
Just to see you in pain
Like the day Christ was brutally slain
By your own creation.
I live in a nation
Of self-gratification,
That lives for work and recreation
With no hesitation
To deny your very existence.
Satan's hellish persistence
Overcomes our half-hearted resistance,
Just enough in this instance
To say "God, I tried."
Is this why he died?
So our evil can just be swept aside?
Mere dust on the floor of our lives,
As if freedom to sin is what forgiveness provides,
But no!
It was so
we can be justified,
sanctified
Before the Holy Christ
That he paid the ultimate price.
And I've burnt that bridge a million times.
--
Across the chasm of death, upon white sands,
His hands
blackened with ash,
the Carpenter stands.
With love, He beckons me to come
My infidelity still chokes my lungs
But I pocket my torch and grasp the rungs
Of the charcoal bridge
Rebuilt with the wood upon which he hung.
--
Across the chasm of death,
I stagger, weak, holding my breath,
Fearing to look down,
For if the ground
gives way
I know I'll drown!
God, I'm struggling!
--
You know
That deep down in my soul,
There's a defiance
A desire for control
That rejects all reliance
On you.
But I hear your voice, and turn my eyes
Away from the well of lies
That supplies
My doubt.
You carry me out,
Away
from the drought
And the miry clay
And into peace.
My fears decrease
Anxieties cease
And finally, I rest.
--
We both know
It's just a matter of time
Before again I find
Myself in the dark of my mind
Fleeing from your embrace.
But for now, I rest in your grace.
--
And for this period of joy,
I'll forget about the bridge I destroyed
And avoid
Thinking about the torch at my side.
Thank you, God, that I can never hide.
That no matter how deep and wide
I choose to make that divide,
And rebel in my pride
I will be at a loss
As you carry me across
The Charcoal Bridge.
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