Til Sunset

11/24/2008

___Hold up my hands___Exodus 17

I let go of my inadequacy
And shut my ears
when I hear
in my head voices telling me,
"I'm not good enough.
What's wrong with me?"
I can't earn Your love
And trying is killing me.

What do I do instead of try?
I've held onto this lie,
this dead bug on my windsheild
blocking my view of hope.

Fill these empty hands with Your purpose Lord.
These fists were clenched, knuckles white.
Lift them high so I won't lose this fight.
Because you're on my side.
You're here fighting for me even yet.
Holding my hands up and steady 'til sunset.

1 Comment

Kari

12/26/2008 02:24:17 am

This is an amazing poem. Thanks for sharing it.

Who am I?

READ TO THE END ... I am frail and a failure; prideful and self-conscious. I was looking for meaning in this mess of a world, and I found that everything is meaningless. (Ecclesiastes)
Ecclesiastes 2:17
"So I hated life, because the work that is done under the sun was grievous to me. All of it is meaningless, a chasing after the wind."

Jesus Christ is as He said, "the way and the truth and the life," and the only way to the Father (John 14:6).
Without Him, all the good I try to be is utterly meaningless. I was living in the shadow. The reality is found in Christ (Colossians 2:17).

Til Sunset

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