The Eye of The Storm
Eyes closed
Light vanishes and I suddenly
Become a target to my past
The wind picks up
Dark clouds consume the sky
Light races across the clouds
As darkness floods the ground and hail pours down
I run for shelter but it is too late
I get caught in the eye
Where there are light winds and clear skies
You may ask “but what is wrong with the eye?”
Just give me a second
So I can recite my story
I stand here imprisoned in the center of it all
With a clouded mind
Detained to the ground trembling with Terror and disgust
Watching an endless movie of who I was
Why can I shut my eyes and sleep it off?
Branches from the trees I planted
Snap off and disappear in the wind
I am merely a tree planted in a desert
Haunted by my own thoughts
Drowning in a sea of sin
Unable to see the shore
I see I see the waves of
Broken relationships, of abandonment, of rejection
Heading in my direction
Caught in the rip current of guilt
Waving my arms and yelling out
But no one seems to hear me
Has everyone gone deaf or have I gone mute
Just like Peter, I cry out to the Lord
“If it is you, bid me to
Walk on the water”
“Come my daughter ”, he says
Trembling and shaking I grab the side of the
Boat putting both of my feet over the edge and
Onto the water
One step two step a couple more steps
A little too confident in myself now
With every step, it felt like an eternity
My mind being filled with uncertainty
But wait why is the water reaching my knees
Father, I am sinking
Please please don’t let me this sea engulf me
And instantly I see a hand reaching
Into the water for my hand
And he pulls me out and
Lifts my head and looks me in the eyes and says
Did I not promise you that I was
Going to be with you every day of your life
No matter where you find yourself
Have you forgotten who I am
I am the alpha and omega
I am the beginning and the end
And all knees shall bend before me
For too long I was running the wrong race
Thinking I was usian bolt
Capable of outrunning my flesh
With no self-discipline, I am like a boxer
Beating the air taking punches from everywhere
I am not a punching bag
I am a blood washed child of his Kingdom
Raised from the grave to bring his name praise
No longer a slave to Satan’s games
But sanctified and called a saint
Just like me I know you feel the pain
Feeling like an outcast when in reality
we need to cast our burdens on him
don’t worry about fitting in with the crowd
because the only place you need to fit in is into his arms
so church use your real eyes to realize that
that you are not the author of your lives
but that Jesus is
so put on your armor and quit playing church
and quit thinking you’re saved just because
you go to church because guess what
Satan goes to church too