The Inner Road To Righteousness

When testing pens to check for ink,
The word we write shows what we think;
Like scribbles from an artist’s brush,
A word pours out in heart-felt rush.

Is it I word? A sign? A name?
Is it the focus of our game?
We all say much of where we’re at,
In things we scribble – thinking that.

For deep below a surface calm,
We crave for peace, relief – some balm
To ease the pressure on our soul;
Displayed desire to be made whole.

Lord as our house gets warm within,
A/C plugged up, heat can’t begin
To dissipate ’till it’s cleaned out,
A simple task to be about –

But when our part gets out of whack
By circulation that it lacks,
The great discomfort of the rest
Is soon revealed – must be addressed.

For troubles deep within each heart
Spill out, reveal – but then they start
To spoil the lives of other folks,
Plug up their vents and chafe their yokes.

For all of us connect some way,
Affect the rest with words we say,
And things we do despite ourselves –
Revealing, sharing, inner Hells.

So Lord, I hate this road I’m on;
I hear from You, “You’re not half gone,
For you’re not half-disgusted yet;
But it will come, that you can bet”.

A crash-test dummy multi-play –
Yes I press on and half obey
The Words you’ve placed upon my heart,
That when it breaks they’ll get their start –

For that is how the Word gets in,
Cleans out our festered inner sin
And its effects, spilled out, on view,
Affecting all we say and do.

The fire and flood You don’t design
To harm our lives, destroy our minds;
But rather, dross from gold refine,
That life in You might be sublime.

Lord, scribbled or in poems wrought,
We write, take photos, paint a lot
Of who we are – revealing self
And thus display our lack of health.

But that’s not all we show that way,
In things we do and words we say –
Revealed are treasures deep within,
All crusted up with mud of sin.

For buried in a field of clay,
Lie treasures lost to future day,
To be revealed by stumbling feet,
Or search within, unearthed, and sweet.

Most see that first within their hearts;
It’s there the outer journey starts,
For he who’s been forgiven much,
Forgives a lot – the touched can touch.

Lord, now reflecting on my past,
And books I wrote, and how I asked
You show me evil’s inner core,
That I reflect our lives some more.

For sin, though long a part of me,
Not understood, I could not see,
So could not deeply comprehend
The start, the midpoint – or its end.

But now I do – at least this far –
Its ugly face; it’s sticky tar,
Once touched, draws in – tar baby’s lure
To passers-by whose way seemed sure.

“Been there; done that; have shirt to prove
My journey, friend”, perhaps I’ll move
You closer to your heavenly home,
As I traverse the road you roam.

O Lord, You taught us how to pray –
Not just in stress, but every day –
“From evil’s test deliver each;
Temptation’s power o’er us release”.

It matters not how we’ve come here –
By choice, obeying – this is clear –
It is not fun to live this way,
As we reveal in things we say.

A scribbled word, photography,
Revealing all for all to see;
We think that folks can’t see or hear;
In that we ere – for we’re quite clear.

We all walk down these common tracks;
We’re subject to the same attacks;
Policemen, lawyers, judges, clerks –
We struggle all to find what works –

To help us deal with inner stress;
To find some way to live our best;
Revealing all the while our slime –
“Our darkness where the sun don’t shine”.

Lord help me persevere in this;
Help each from inner health soon shift
To life in You, fulfilled, enriched
In righteousness and prospered bliss.

Thanks Lord, for this.

navigation