Wednesday, August 5, 2009

John 15:16


You did not choose Me, but I chose you...



I grow weary of combat. Each battle I fight tears me down, closer to defeat. The world is a battlefield, and I am a soldier. I am not sure that this is what I have asked for, but I do know that it burdens my soul. It seems that I can always survive the battle, but will I be able to survive the war? My heart grows heavy. My body must work extra hard to disrupt the world’s forces against me.

Wake me up from this dream. Let this afflicted breath I breathe turn pure. Let my heavy burden turn to dust. I know I have been granted, the strength, but what I long for is peace.

For this moment is beautiful and I wish this heart beat would last forever. What should become of me if I leave this moment? I shall re-enter the battlefield. I shall conquer my fears, my tears, my hopelessness. God, grant me this peace. Grant me this prayer that I breathe. Let this heavy breath turn light and steady.