my chest with a knife lodged
my abdomen tied like rope
my shoulder scalpel-ed by every inhale
my feet with naked bone touching ground
all remind me it was born to die,
this natural map, from toe to pony-tailed tendril.
I laugh white teeth with gap in between
because I’m closer to Heaven than ever before.
No spiritual song, no kiss in moonlight,
no day on the lake nor mountaintop moment
offers this free fall forward so explicitly.
In front of my face, inches away,
is a God who says,
“I’ve put your soul into a broken jar.”
All I can do is flatten my feeble frame
against the floor and say, “Thank you.”
This is where I get my faith:
debate between Emergency room or living room.
He waves white flag for me,
ushering me into the abundant existence.
This broken jar is brimming,
to breathe is to be blessed.
And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.~Romans 8:23
I’m laying down my sickness and pain for the glory of the Lord~Darrell Evans