The Loneliest Day
As fast as I can fill up my decrepit cup
the sin extends beyond all belief
Saturating the horizon with all of the worst of me
Overflowing ditches, mud-stained rivers, reservoir of muck
When the ashen-colored life seems all but lost
The prisoner, shuffling gait of iron chains
The soul unmoved, discarded, gathering brownish moss
finds mercy, pardon, and endless love
within the Christ where hope remains
This is ugly language, right?? I don't think there are sufficient words to describe just how ugly our sin is...especially when contrasted against a Holy God. The good news? There is hope in Jesus!
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We Wrestle Not...
PoetryThird in the [A Sinner's Diary] Series Ephesians 6:12 (KJV) For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.
