The Ministering Temple My body The temple of Holy Spirit In which my soul and spirit Minister to Yahweh In which we commune And become One Not like in the days of law When the Presence was deadly Not like in the days of legalism But like Father and Son Sitting at a table Talking Laughing “Father, what can I do for you?” “Go.” “I will need provision.” “You already have it.” My body The temple of Holy Spirit A vehicle through which He moves The only temple that isn’t just A building with stones or wood The only temple That can, of itself, Minister. I Minister to Yahweh And we are become One.
I am a water lily in an environment made for cacti, The atmosphere too hot and arid to really let me thrive, The soil too shallow and lacking in nutrients, It is clear I don’t fit in, But when I look around me to see Who is constructing this ambience in which only the driest, most superficial plants can flourish, I am startled to find myself surrounded By orchids, roses, lilies, and daffodils, Many beautiful and unique specimens of existence that also were not made for this environment Some can make do better than others, With a few watering cans and some irrigation, Some can even get along comfortably, And yet none of them were truly made for this environment, And I wonder why, when we have the power to change the soil, We do not I can only think that those who get along well enough here Look at those of us who are withering and wilting and fading away And see how easily that could be them, So they fear to change anything Le...
You didn’t know how to handle trauma, No shame in that, most people don’t unless they’ve been trained or been through it themselves, But you were too arrogant to admit your ignorance and unwilling to listen or take guidance and direction, Instead of admitting you didn’t know how to help me, You got angry at me for needing help, You tried for a while, then decided that I was the problem, You got angry and screamed and pushed me away, And then, after I overcame the kind of loyalty I’ve always had that causes me to devalue myself in favor of others, When I finally left, You turned around to all who could hear you and said, “See? She left! What was I supposed to do? Couldn’t stop her from leaving. Her traumas were too much for her. She made some crazy choices. Not my fault.” Did you feel better then? Vindicated? Did the part of you that feared to admit ignorance quiet down inside of you so that you could finally sleep at night, Secure in the “fact” that th...
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