Season of Drought

Written by d116v. Posted in Poetry

A letter I wrote to my past self, struggling with faith.
I performed this piece in my last week of being in a 3 year discipleship program.

 

______________________

Dear me, 4 months ago.

 

I see your current situation, but this is what I would like you to know

The doubt that arises every time you pray, the intensity of your crisis

Making you unsure if you should stay, is eating you away.

Slowly killing you, devouring parts of your soul and heart

So fight hard to the stay focussed on the promises you’ve received from God.

 

They say faith and doubt go hand in hand,

Because faith is believing in the infinite, and following the invisible

Which for you I guess is kind of hard to understand,

So you’re brought to a place beyond your own comprehension, you’re shaken

And you turn to God for help when your foundations are shaking

Only to find out that it is God who is shaking them, days of doubt.

 

These are the days of doubt, the season of drought

Be on the lookout for lies, that will inevitably cause a burnout

Throughout this journey, this route, to completely wipeout

any symptoms of self-guidance and unbelief

Be devout to follow your Savior even tho he’s won’t be answering

your shouts, your cries, your anthems of heartache

Being terrified that your lover went without even saying goodbye

 

A season of drought

 

 

So you’re stuck wondering why, and from Heaven there’s no reply

not even options intensified, or made easier to identify

Typical poet, surfing a flow, creating a lullaby

Simplifying the beauty of being stuck in an emotion

And through this earthly commotion hoping Christ still will be amplified

 

So I jump in the deep, hoping His spirit catches me

So I can cling onto Him and soar high, reminded by the marks on His thigh

“King of Kings, Lord of Lords”

Knowing that within my cry I find the answer

 

He is beauty personified, who will provide, for you’re His bride,

For you He also cried, when you turned your back to Him at the moment he died.

So we have no other option then to pursue,

One hand as a fist to knock, the other holding a tissue box

A man full of emotion, I guess we could call you Paradox

Experiencing aftershocks of an earthquake of change.

Stuck in a romantic exchange of heartache

Sudden outbreak of awakened realization of being responsible

Feeling schizophrenic for planning my wedding, yet wanting to meet Christ more

Don’t get me wrong, Love your future wife with all that you got,

But all that you have is given by Christ, so He is all that you got

So with all that you got, love her, and so love her with Christ, for He’s all that you got

 

 

So keep knocking on Heavens door,

Knowing that when He opens up, there’s more for us in store

So I keep knocking and though my hands are sore,

I know that my divine reward will open up the door

 

And he will refill your tank of motivation, reempower the immunity system

Of your spiritually, redefining the person he intended you to be,

and He will speak these words of life

“Without my crucifixion there wouldn’t have been a ressurection,

So pick up your cross, I’ll lead you through imperfection

The next time you fall, just kneel in the right direction

 

So my worries are crucified, and trust in Him has resurrected

 

Sincerely,

Trust

 

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