Into worldly submission,
Defenses down, false shelter under metal trees,
Disconnected from God,
Focused fatally on me.
On my wants, my desires,
Dangerously toying with temptation.
Approaching it before it approaches me,
I get stronger, growing in God,
Connected to The Holy Spirit’s promptings.
Conscience, intuition… Holy voices muffled by will,
Childish rebellion, disheartening.
Less of me and more of Him,
The ever present eye of all storms.
No more drowning in preventable floods,
I seek the shelter of the Son.
Will I take God’s offered, mercifully hand?
Or keep one foot in a grave, meant to bind me to this carnal coffin?