Poetry

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The mood of my life lay naked and lame,
Waiting to be clothed and healed of pain.
Clutching God's promises, I vainly gripped them mine,
He cradled me His cripple to seek His love divine.

As I lie there crying, begging for release,
His strength proved overwhelming, yet hinted of His peace.
I pondered His delay, with madness whispering defeat,
Angrily I fumed and fretted and sweltered in His heat.

He smiled as One the victor, soon to share His gain,
And asked I quiet down, while He gently did sustain.
He told me moods are often feelings prideful and aloof,
For if the heart would know of love, it must abide by truth.

Helpless I began to fear what He'd expect of me.
He asked that I arise and trust and will Himself set free.
Because I lie there stripped and paralyzed by my choice,
I surrendered Him my life and hearkened unto His voice.

Humbly I approached His love, in honor as His bride.
Adorning His loving kindness, in the quickening of my stride.
Suddenly to my amazement, my mood expressed such thrill,
Simply because I hurt for love, and He granted me my fill.

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