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"legalism" poems
090116 Lies, shame; innocence ruined Feeling exposed? Uncovered? Shame & blame, are a constant theme; Shame came about, As a direct result of sin. That evil twin notion of shame, That good twin notion of shoulds, Both are responses to the same root problem. Inner character, God can truly see; And those stifling atmosphere Of work, duty, & expectations All have nothing to do With the heart of God. We tremble in shame, Wrapped in a sheet or a shift; But we're a lot closer to salvation now Than once we're in all our finery. We're naked in our sins 'Til Jesus died and rose again! To clothe us in righteousness Rather than with layers of works & legalism. Human efforts are so uncomfortable; It's difficult, useless, and endless work Of clothing ourselves in a spiritual sense. But when we admit our need for Him, In His righteousness & grace, We can truly rest! Let us not slip into a place A place of spiritual nakedness & shame. Come back now, Fling open the door of every heart, For we base our hopes on healing On what is real, not on how we feel. Now we plant seeds of redemption Forget shame, receive lavish blessings How could such a wonderful thing possibly happen?
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Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 8:50 PM UTC
We the Shame Breakers (Feat. Isaiah 54:4-5; 61:7-8)
loosen these chains break that fence improve this vacant lot no legalism involved we move in like a crime our aim being productive we build without codes only our own simple ambition production of a destructive mastermind rail driven steel ridden we build our new future and we do it now
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Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 12:33 AM UTC
break
Legalism says, "God will love us if we change." The Gospel says, "God will change us because He loves us."
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Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 6:58 AM UTC
Love
skip through my meddled, alpine wash of flowers, watered- down disarray of colours, smattered on the rocks, that don't roll. does the mind squander, what the heart believes, are there desires that deceive? does the lone wanderer, forever court disaster receive, a reprieve? prostrate find me, let love unbind me, unbind my tongue, my words, my speech, is anything free anymore, anymore, have i got you ravin' for more and is it fuelled or fooled by passion in what you believe, it is right to write? Anybody could slap these words around, non-violently, and be better at it, see? heart be brave while lunatics rant and rave about right and wrong, challenge them to make lyrics and put legalism in a song. Tomorrow will be a bad day, I am not in a place to say why, or how I know, I too often have let my emotion show, in abject humility, I am an embarrassment to all who know me. Sorrow will fill my hours, and my eyes, there is not enough space around me to breath, suffocates my ability to communicate, I cease to exist and lose all hope, dreams like steam evaporate. The yellow brick road lies, if the truth be unrolled rusty spike in the last railway tie, childhood dreams scream of deceit, even if you have had the best mother, two boys could ever have. while i skip down the aisles of grocery stores and the tears of my life seep from pores so small they make up for them in numbers like ninety-nine and the one, am i a lonely sheep for the slaughter or in want of a lonelier shepherd, have i fallen with no will to get up, then let me die...
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Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 12:50 AM UTC
Read ...carefreely
skip through my meddled, alpine wash of flowers, watered- down disarray of colours, smattered on the rocks, that don't roll. does the mind squander, what the heart believes, are there desires that deceive? does the lone wanderer, forever court disaster receive, a reprieve? prostrate find me, let love unbind me, unbind my tongue, my words, my speech, is anything free anymore, anymore, have i got you ravin' for more and is it fuelled or fooled by passion in what you believe, it is right to write? Anybody could slap these words around, non-violently, and be better at it, see? heart be brave while lunatics rant and rave about right and wrong, challenge them to make lyrics and put legalism in a song. Tomorrow will be a bad day, I am not in a place to say why, or how I know, I too often have let my emotion show, in abject humility, I am an embarrassment to all who know me. Sorrow will fill my hours, and my eyes, there is not enough space around me to breath, suffocates my ability to communicate, I cease to exist and lose all hope, dreams like steam evaporate. The yellow brick road lies, if the truth be unrolled rusty spike in the last railway tie, childhood dreams scream of deceit, even if you have had the best mother, two boys could ever have. while i skip down the aisles of grocery stores and the tears of my life seep from pores so small they make up for them in numbers like ninety-nine and the one, am i a lonely sheep for the slaughter or in want of a lonelier shepherd, have i fallen with no will to get up, then let me die...
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