Enough

ENOUGH

Pushed with my back against the wall.
Downtrodden, overwhelmed, in doubt.
So many thoughts I can't recall,
In quiet cries, the words slip out,
"Unyielding tides have pulled me down,
I'm sinking fast, and feel alone."
I question where He put His trust.
This soul has had enough.

With mornings light, a view from home
Invokes in me His mercy:
I bore two thousand years ago
The onus of your journey.
With innocence and perfect grace,
I stood there, willing, in your place.
What I endured in flesh and blood,
Was it not far enough?

To ask for one more drop to fall,
Another taunt or lash or thorn?
My name mocked in the public hall,
Already beaten, battered, torn.
Be still. At peace. Keep looking up,
I left no dredges in the cup.
The span and depth of what you feel,
Has been surpassed by my ordeal.

I ask for His confirming hand,
Stretched out to meet God's measure.
Absolving lone attempts to stand,
Acquainted with my brother.
His sacrifice consoles my heart,
Perspective to endure my part.
Secure in His atoning love,
Assures, it is enough.

2014 Nancy Busby

Glory Born

GLORY BORN

Under the angels care I came.
Descending glory burning bright.
Yet, 'Why?' My voice speaks out again,
'Why did I choose to pick this fight?'
Of weapons heart and mind and might.

The veil drawn tight, the victors prize
Seems out of reach and almost gone.
Until unfolding truth revives
Through woven turns where life belongs;
My way is found through heaven’s song.

Heard rising up, a covenant
Made in a Holy home on high
Of which I was a supplicant
Recalls the sacred warrior cry
'I'll not draw back! I won't deny!'

But life on earth can overwhelm,
And burdens feel like crushing blows.
Fierce battles fought in spirits realm,
To understand and learn and grow
The enemy I face, I know.

Placed here to serve and prove my worth,
Each time I rise, I’m beaten down.
I’m swinging wide the swords full girth.
With dented armor on my brow,
Which battle am I fighting now?

I long to find the peace I've known.
Made still, I listen through the storm.
Revealing will unlike my own.
Until I'm broken, molded, formed,
In His true image, glory born.

2014 Nancy Busby