Poetry

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Written 3-4-05

How many say they’re feelings are real
While telling me my God is not,
How my claim’s a fantasy,
My God is just a blot.

Yet I know many times,
My feelings are an illusion,
With nothing to fear or be irate,
My emotions often a delusion.

Yet He remains, apart from what I feel,
This truth is steadfast just to let me heal.
In Him I have clarity with His truth,
My steady life, as it is, to be proof.

Once a drunken fool, with heart of fear,
Just to even breathe, left me insecure;
A heart tainted with debauchery,
No one could ever call me pure.

This self of the past is just that,
He seems dead, with the new in place;
Many have seen this to be true,
The old me He has erased.

This my testimony remains undaunted,
It stands without refute;
The genuine heart that I hold
He’s given me to boot.

I make no claim for myself,
All I have comes from my Christ;
Heaven’s my home when I die,
Redeemed from a spiritual heist.

So let me love you, by my Lord,
Like Him, show you the truth;
And uphold it with my life,
Speaking fearlessly, undaunted proof!

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