Phil. 4:6 Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by
prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto
God.
The Road
The road is blemished in an odd way
it started with my waking day.
A pebble here, small stone there
tossed about without a care.
My road is darkened, often bleak
I wander the path for all I seek.
Purged from innocent winds I fly
longing to know the reasons why.
Throw in the towel and give it all up
am I worthy to drink from His cup?
He kissed my head, held my hand
gave me strength for which to stand.
The path was lit in a rainbows flare
my eyes soon saw possibilities there.
All from me or blessings from Him,
the road now bright no longer dim.
Sometimes we see no light to guide
Mistruths, mistrusts we long to hide.
Inner peace is not from this world
nor in agenda of a flag unfurled.
Struggles are often the seeds of growth
I am full owner of them both.
As I stand and knock at pains door
a blossoming blessing rocks my core.
It’s not about our physical sight
that gives us all the will to fight.
Simply put it’s how you revere love,
as muddy waters or a snow-white dove.
I give it my all in withering strife,
the road less traveled becomes my life.
It’s not the road, in which you travel,
It’s that which you sow in rich soil or gravel.
1 comment:
Pretty, Joni. Thanks! :)
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