Nightmares have their way of jolting us back to reality.
Sigmund says dreaming, for unconscious desires, is a valve of safety.
Whether it’s the jostle of terror felt as we ease back into consciousness,
or the desperate attempt of the cortex to transform random signals into stories..
one thing is certain;
It leaves us panting, breathless, staring at fear.
I am afraid
And somehow it’s not the three-headed monster that just chased me off a cliff
It’s the voice of my soul that I hear,
the reality of my deepest self
and I am afraid.
Afraid that the Trumpet will sound any minute, finding me guilty of crucifying the Son again and again
Scared to be caught disregarding His sacrifice on the cross
Crossing the ‘runway’ I’ve made His Presence, in clothes of sin_
casually
focused on everything but the Author, only to reach the Finish and wail ‘who will save me?!’
I’m afraid that though I’m saved and full of power,
when a brother bumps into me all I spill is filthy desires
That the devil isn’t bothered when I sing ‘no more lies’
because he’s got me high on pride
That yes, I tread the narrow path but when the dogs begin to bark I look to the other side and pray
‘Yo Jesus, I love you but let’s pause_ i’ll be right back!
The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom but I’m afraid to be so wise that like the Pharisees,
I see all other’s faults except for the ones in my scene.
Ready to partake in endless arguments of ‘who is who’ in biblical knowledge,
I fail to preach the paramount revelation: ‘who Christ is’.
No I don’t change the channel when its an X-rated movie because i’m a prude,
actually i’m frightened..
cos i know sexual sin is a lot like murder, only you hold the knife
and I have slippery hands!
See i’m worried I will waltz into Church proudly
because it’s become a museum to showcase my righteousness
So i unveil precious jewels on my spotless back
Forgetting His was scarred for wretched me,
His mercy found undeserving me
Forgetting blood was shed and saints martyred for
The Word I,
occasionally, under lining verses only because I feel the message that day was ‘deep’.
No longer ‘the lamp unto my feet, light unto my path’
It’s just my candle when the ‘dumsor’ of life strikes.
I’m afraid that for me,
prayer equals long sessions of public tongue speaking
but yours truly,
A loyal truant when it’s time for private prayer meeting.
I’m petrified that the same Word He spoke which parted seas and defied gravity only fetches a few Hallelujahs from me.
Like a robot, my worship is diminished to a session of raising hands in fifteen minutes
abandoning a life of daily surrendering to Christ in truth and in Spirit.
Oh it’s not that I dislike social media,
I’m worried a little self-love will turn narcissistic
and the very self I’m to die to daily
I continue to exhalt with selfies!
I’m afraid that demons I cast out, commanding, ‘Get out of here’,
i may meet in Hades and see them grin, ‘You’re welcome here’.
I fear that ‘I will be with thy mouth’ will puff me up so much that
I dare to make late night calls to Potiphar’s wife!
How terrified I am, of becoming sheep to shepherds who refuse to share ‘shelter’ with me
preaching like they need Jesus less than me.
I’m afraid to surrender my hands to be re-chained by religion
after His precious blood broke them all off.
No more ‘rightly dividing the word of truth’
lol, I just fork out what will suit
It becomes Ecc 1:2 over Prov 13:4
and in the spirit of ‘religious tolerance’, definitely 1Sam 18:3 over Gen 4:1.
See i’m SCARED!
Afraid to reduce the move of the Holy Spirit to chills and goosebumps during worship
and when the choir can modulate, why that’s the Presence!
forgetting God dwells in me, with me, by me
and therefore sees the closet me!
I know overcoming the flesh is a daily battle but i’m scared to bypass the process of mind renewal
Better is one day in His courts
and yet thousands have been confined to a cycle…
Asking for forgiveness for the same sin_ over and over
It’s really become like talking about your ex on every date with your spouse;
physically he might be gone, but he never really leaves!
I’m afraid to debase the blood of the Lamb,
comparing it to that of bulls and rams because there’s a difference
His grants me power over sin!
I’m afraid to hang on to the
‘where sin abounded, grace did much more abound’ excuse
When I can desire the life of Christ, where sin was absent.
I’m afraid to make God a tyrant when he never stops wrapping His loving arms around me.
I’m afraid to be so afraid of all the above that i forget the 365 times He says to me;
‘Do not be afraid’
Do not be afraid..
Do not be afraid!!!
so yeah, I can go back to bed
sigh
~sheyla~