I never knew, how my hopes grew, so silently they spread. Like ivy leaves on chimney wall they grew inside my head. Until the bitter breezes blew, and left them all for dead. I felt them shrivel up and fall, and it was then I knew, that down inside my hopes had died, and they were mine no more.
Whole fleets of expectations,
like hungry merchant ships,
had sailed into my harbor heart,
and docked among the slips.
They'd tied themselves with sailor's art
to wait their promised store.
And when, with hulls still empty,
they were ordered to depart,
they rose in bloody mutiny
and stormed upon the shore.
Oh how they wailed,
and loud their cries
for longings unfulfilled,
as vacant satisfaction's lies
slipped through their hands
like desert sands,
to lie
upon the floor.
Enough.
Delib'rately
I turn my eyes
away from where
lament was spent,
and to the place my certain home
lies high above the skies,
where moth and rust do not destroy
and thieves can steal
no more.
The kingdom of the Righteous One, whose lips can form no lies, prepares for me a mansion, grand, and beckons me with outstretched hand up where ev'ry shattered hope becomes a bright kaleidoscope, there stands, for me, an open door.
"See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut. I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name.” The Revelation of Jesus Christ, Chapter 3, Verse 8
Craig Sabin is my favorite poet. His poetry touches my heart. It will touch your heart, too. Read Craig’s story at the post below.
Are you in a spiritual battle? I pray that the following verses by Craig Sabin will encourage you to keep fighting, as much as they did me!
O, weak and broken soldier, rise!
Get on your feet and fix your eyes
Upon your Captain, King and Lord,
Who bids you wield His living sword!
So what, your strength has slipped away,
You're weary from the race you've run,
So what, your body, broken lay,
You're not discharged! Your work's not done!
The weaker vessels show His pow'r;
The broken show it ev'ry hour.
So rise, and for His glory, strive!
By faith, from brokenness revive!
A soldier suffers hardship oft!
No featherbed of ease for him,
'Twould make him slow and weak and soft,
Instead of fell and fighting trim, so Rise!
Recall your purpose, high and grand,
A battle rages through the land,
The enemy has evil planned,
Against him you are called to stand so Rise!
Get up and stand against the flood! And fear not death nor darkest grave, But wrestle not with flesh and blood, For they're the ones we fight to save.
Let love and light shine like a star, And let the truth consume the lies, Remember who and whose you are, And when you fall don't fail to RISE!
Endure until the bitter end,
And ev'ry ounce of effort spend!
It matters not you're weak and small,
Your Captain is the Lord of All so RISE!
And put His mighty armor on!
And hold the line as soldiers must!
The dark will flee before the dawn;
It's His to win and ours to trust!
And Rise!
He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” The 2nd Letter to the Corinthians, Chapter 12, verse 9
“Suffer hardship with me, as a good soldier of Christ Jesus.” The 2nd Letter to Timothy, Chapter 2, verse 3
“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm.” The Letter to the Ephesians, Chapter 6, verses 12-13
“Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.” The Letter to the Hebrews, Chapter 12, verse 3
Postscript – Every child of God through faith in Jesus Christ is born into warfare, but the weapons of our warfare are not physical, and no son of Adam is our true enemy. Even so, the battle is real and many suffer real and lasting harm, so this war is more than mere metaphor.
It’s a pitfall of our nature (and one with which I am well acquainted) that we tend to be soft on ourselves and when we suffer hardship or injury, especially if it is particularly grievous, we at once turn all of our focus upon ourselves and in our self-pity think that we have somehow been excused from the conflict when, in fact, this is when and where the battle is thickest and the danger the greatest.
This collection of verses is written to my own soul, as it were, and is meant to somewhat mercilessly dispatch the several lies and excuses that have rallied against me and sought my destruction in the midst of my trials. Furthermore, it is meant as a strong exhortation to the endurance and faith without which, scripture is clear, we cannot hope to inherit the kingdom of heaven.
Image credit: Frederic Edwin Church, 1860, “Twilight in the Wilderness,” Pubic Domain, courtesy of the Cleveland Museum of Art.
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