Salvation (Poem)

Salvation is promised, Salvation is sure 
His holy and perfect love is a kind of cure 
Through His bleeding palms and through His scorned head 
The thirsty drink and the hungry are fed 
But there are nights when the devils whispers feel more like screams 
And the things I turn into idols haunt my dreams
I wake up and I begin to wonder 
If my salvation is more like thunder
If its a fleeting and temporary thing 
A flower that bloomed too early in spring
Does my dawn truly never rise? 
Forced to live in this false disguise 
I act confident that Jesus is my all in all 
But what if I’m on my hands and knees to crawl 
They drag me up in front of the altar 
I beg for forgiveness in all the ways that I falter
I am sorry for the doubts that I have 
I am sorry for the times you see me cut in half
I know my salvation is promised
But when I’m uncertain, I turn into a makeshift psalmist 
I lament to the Lord like I was formed from sludge 
I pray that He is gentle when it comes time to judge 
But I was formed from dirt 
And my God has a love that removes all kinds of hurt 
So even when I doubt, even when I lack
He hoists me up, and I’ll rest my head on His back
I’ll let myself rest until He wakes me up 
I’ll thirst again until He fills my cup
And for when I question who I am
I’ll look at the lion, I’ll look at the lamb

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