To be all where you are
is not as easy as it seems.
For when the poisonous asp of "could be" and "what if"
sinks his fangs into your skin,
the venom takes you to a bad cloud land,
a carousel of dreams.
Round and round, up and down,
jostling and bumping and bouncing around.
No distance covered, no progress made,
you've fallen into the lie of the Prince Masquerade.
The lie is subtle, easy to believer,
much easier than work,
seemingly to relieve.
But dizziness comes when spinning too fast,
nausea and chunks, it won't be your last.
Paralyzed you lay, on this spinning death ride,
"did you ***** up", "What now should you try?"
"Is it better over there, greener on that side?"
Or is where I'm at OK, the best for my wretched hide.
Optimization, efficiency, the lot,
all come hurtling at me as I enter the shop.
Come, this is better, the best, I am sure.
Focus on me, not God's leading, or that you've been bought,
focus on your flaws, your sin, and your doubt.
Jesus, in you, is my only hope.
I don't know how you could care for and lead such a dope,
your word has promises that quiet my soul.
May I turn to you, and may you restore me (my fear, doubt, guilt).
Make me whole.
What is, is. And what could be is not.
Do what you're called, do it well and a lot.
Look not behind, forget it, it's gone.
Look forward to Jesus, he will lead you on.