It is hard when well-worked out beliefs run smack dab into life: this war zone of a broken world where wills collide and battle lines are drawn,
human, angelic, and Godhead.
And I am in the crosshairs, but not afraid—
at least not too much,
my leader is ultimate Lord of all—Lord of this real and reeling universe.
And I believe for others, and
I believe for myself, and
I hang on in trouble
the trouble is bigger that I can carry, and the trouble brims to the top of one so weak,
my belief runs smack dab into my “Lord, I believe; help Thou my unbelief,” and
my perseverance smacks up against my “though you slay me, yet will I praise,” and
there seems to be no life in the clinging words, only desperation.
How can I believe I am not alone, yet feel…
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