Expected them to regard my words as gospel truth
And when they didn't—because they couldn't—
I blamed, dismissed and planned
My next defense of this authority
I wield like a flaming torch in a hay barn.
O God, I've done it again,
Believed my judgements were Yours,
Thought that I alone held the truth
And thus had to speak to bring about goodness.
I convinced myself that Your Spirit provoked
My inability to hold my tongue—
My impatience, really, with Your invisible work.
I judged what I saw to be wrong.
I assumed You wanted it differently,
You intended something else,
That things had gotten out of Your hands.
O Lord, rightly order my strength's conquests
To trust that nothing is outside Your power or goodness;
That even in the garden Your plans weren't derailed
And You waited for Canaan's sacrifices to be fulfilled.
Not a blink is made without Your, 'Let it be.'
Not a sin enacted outside Your methodology.
O God, You alone rightly wield this authority
To define what is good in the depths of their hearts.
You alone, unbound by time and flesh,
Open minds and realign false thinking
In those regions I cannot touch or teach or rule,
Yes, even within my own upside-down soul.
O Father, You need me not for this process
Save in surrender of my ill-used power,
And admittance that I know not Your goodness.
Indeed, the more I wait and watch Your ways,
Slow and unseen though they seem,
The more I see that this yearning and angst
Is merely a longing for Your righteousness in me.
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