Nestled in the Woods

Not fear, but faith,
And with the faith, relinquish works of pride
And wisdom and our wits.
Fear is a wraith
That mocks God’s mercy that He brings beside
The hurt and never quits.

Grasp the conflict?
And try to turn it downside on its head?
Where God’s voice can’t be heard?
That effort’s vain,
And then will break apart the fragile thread.
It’s futile and absurd!

Don’t hold to stuff
Or conflicts that we nevermore can win,
Because the victory’s won,
And it’s enough.
The battle’s His.  To fight against Him, sin.
He sees the deed as done.

There is that time of morning
Between confusing dream and conscious thought,
Before the darkness dissipates—is conquered by the sun,
Before some thought of warning
Or trouble creeps back in my mind of naught
But yesterday’s unwise mistakes and duties left undone.

I waken with a hoping—
A clean page willing to be written full
Of joys and new accomplishing that I’ve not done before—
Desire for a coping—
A rise above an errant, worldly pull,
And write that leaf where faith grows wings that take their flight and soar.

In my strength I’d be failing
In each endeavor for a perfect flight.
Those wings would droop and plummet me to depths below the ground.
In God’s care I’ll keep sailing
And reach beyond a fore-accomplished height,
For in His arms I’ve ridden free and lofty summits found.