Paper tigers, illusionists, stargazers and dream interpreters racing to the prince of this world looking for some type of guaranteed treasure.  Stained by generational curse gainfully selling their children for unholy anointing and power.  We stand here and watch our Brothers run after dreams of center stage and tin foil crowns.  We clap and throw stones as the King of Glory walks up that stony mount carrying upon Him the weight of our iniquity.  Or worse we stand bye and watch others do the deed and remain mute.  Being blind binds me to my pain forever.  How many false tears and tales have I shown to a world that loves my thespian display?  Enough!  Holy Father please take from me this moth-ridden sham, woven by the spinnerets of my dissembling tongue.

I run proclaiming, “The Lord is coming, the Lord is coming”, driven on by an urge that calls from the parts of me planted deep in the soil of the Holy Father’s Word.  “Must I Father, Must I?”, became “Send me, Father” somewhere along the highway and I never even saw the other man leave.  Things I used to hold on to praying that He would never require of me I now beg for Him to take away.  Send me to the fire Lord, send me to Sodom’s edge, so that I may sing of your Grace and Love so grand that maybe someone will hear above the hungering flames.  Grant me voice so sweet and loud that it cuts across the rambling hatred of this world gone haywire.  Let them know the extent of Your love.  Bear this cross for me Lord as I cannot carry it alone, but through You I will make my stand upon that dreadful hill just for a glimpse of Your Glory.

Let them see Your Face and hear Your Words spoken through an instrument designed to play the music of your beautiful love.  Rosin Your bow and draw it against the strings of my trunk bringing forth dissonance meant for the ears of man.  Let them here my pain, if that will shake them to clarity, reason and Truth.  My attempts fall beneath the shield of deaf ears, crushed by overwhelming folly and the girders of insupportable knowledge.  I understand now why it is so hard to wait upon Your Will Father, because in Your time these things will come about and my part is to see the splendor of Your Mighty Hand.

I am present Father.  How it turns out matters little compared to what I have been promised when all is complete.  Thank You for letting me call myself Your son.  Praise Your Holy, Righteous and Mighty Name.  Victory, Honor and Praise to the Lamb, the Righteous One of God.  Jesus, what a glorious name!