Your kingdom, Lord,
is an upside down one:
die to gain
give to receive
bow low to be exalted
last will be first
poor become rich.
But this Father:
love my enemies
pray for them.
She has caused such
heartache and pain,
to those I love
most dearly;
and to me-
inexplicable and undeserved.
Bitterness and anger
have filled my heart,
it is a struggle to keep
from lashing out
with words that will
inflict pain
and satisfy a need
for my idea of justice.
Your thoughts are
not my thoughts.
Your idea is pray.
I bow the knee-
difficult, almost impossible,
at first
Circumstances don't change,
but something in
my heart begins to move.
And peace
I cannot understand
comes like a gentle balm.
I cannot fathom
Your ways, Lord,
in this upside-down kingdom,
but they are good.
joining Emily at imperfect prose today
Blessings,
Linda
