Lord, Lord

I cry "Lord, Lord,"
yet stubbornly cling to the darkness of my false god
and yield to familiar enveloping numbness.
It placates and buffers the gnawing
from which I am unwilling to reach up and grasp the hand
that longs to save me from myself.
I hide from the ugliness I might discover
in the light of a clear mind.
Instead, I remain dazed from
the fleeting pleasure of sweet, deceitful, delights and
fall into the pocket of oblivion where nothing matters

What makes me think I will magically say yes
to Truth that longs to find me
after a lifetime of submitting to the subtle and easy lie?
My actions betray my heart.
It is not enough to cry "Lord, Lord."
I am convicted by Paul's lament-
"I cannot even understand my own actions.
I do not do what I want to do, but what I hate."

If I sincerely ask for rescue, He will come
and sweep me upward. Jesus, I trust in You.
"Lord, Lord," give me the strength not just to ask and trust,
but to act.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem