The Christian life is not a journey of prosperity. The roads are narrow - valleys deep - and there is suffering. The Christian life is never meant to satisfy the flesh. You will be scourged and mocked, for this road leads to holiness. You cannot serve wealth and your God Your family must come after Him All things you own - estate you have Must in Christ's light grow small and dim. By many you will be rejected for your faith in God To those of this world - who are dying - your steps will seem odd. A Christian is an alien - just passing through this world. Who speaks the wisdom from above, which is by few hearts heard. The Christian life cannot be planned - it's led by God alone. It's foreign to the ways of Man - with the Spirit it is one. A structured church cannot command the wind to do its will. The head of the Christian is not the pope, but God on His holy hill. Rituals and sacraments treat Jesus like a genie. Put in your coin of observance, and out come life and blessing. But sacrifice our God wants not - but broken, contrite hearts. To seek God only through these things puts the horse after the cart. For freedom Christ has set us free - Not for bondage and slavery, Except to Him, our faithful King We seek Him first for everything. No life can be obtained in wine By an unregenerate heart No one can say "Lord, You are mine" Whose stone-cold heart is hard. First let your heart transform to flesh Then partake, remember His body First, with Him be put to death Then drink the cup, remember His victory. Tyrants must silence the voice of the crowd "No private conclusions of Scripture allowed!" They claim that the people can't hear from the Spirit Yet all the elite of church mystically "hear it". Tombs washed in white are they - no one can see The death and the skeletons hid underneath. "The true way" they claim is their deadly religion While "protecting" the people from spiritual vision. "We've reasoned" they say in their clerical collars They place God below their theology "scholars". And somehow, this image sets off an alarm And reminds me of fat pigs in Animal Farm. They steal from the people while promising life They smile in your face while they stab with a knife. Bread, wine, and water they promise will save While they laugh as you sail to a watery grave. Do not trust mere mortals or men who are "moral" - For no one is good without God in his soul. Anyone can claim a position pastoral To further his cause and accomplish his goal. Only the Spirit can point out the wolf For the Spirit comes out of the Wisest of shepherds The Spirit is poured over every sheep's soul That they all can keep watch, and swift call out the leopards. The Spirit will never Himself contradict As caution the pastors and priests nowadays But the Spirit will veils of deep trickery lift And the charlatans fear He will unshroud their ways.
© 2018 Kate Richardson All Rights Reserved