What Held and Holds me Down

What Held and Holds me Down


I was five years old when you called me,
told me who I am
I was but a speaking baby,
but you did not withhold your heavenly joys
---
I was singing poetry by eighteen months
sure, it wasn't great,
but the heart within me longed for you,
Even as a child, I spoke with you.

As soon as I could write, I was writing poetry
I didn't hold it back,
but even if I wanted too,
I couldn't hold back your words flowing through me.

At seven we adopted a girl from Ethiopia
she was three,
and I was seven,
and she brought joy and happiness as well as trials.

By the time I was ten I described this feeling,
as aching in my soul,
I had to run for pen and paper,
To pour out the words in my heart.

When I was eleven I saw you working,
not just about me but through me.
when you used my childish poetry,
To help a stranger's hurting heart.

I was twelve and I knew end purpose,
but you spoke through my father,
to tell me the steps,
that my shy, stage-frightened self should take.

And though my shyness had prevented me from asking for ketchup,
I stood the testing,
held God through the warfare,
and gathered young girls with whom I started a bible study.

But my downfall didn't come from pain or suffering,
it wasn't stress,
it wasn't fear,
The thing that held and holds me back is pride.

I was praised and encouraged by those in my church,
by family and friends,
and by near-strangers,
In my church I was doing something different, so word spread.

But my sinful self wasn't mature enough to stand,
when the tempting wasn't bitter,
but sweet.
And the pride that grew was soon fed by self-righteousness.

I prided myself in being so young, and yet,
"so bold" and
"starting so early"
And Satan helped me feed my pet pride into a hidden monster.

Then by God's providence, a family visited,
They stayed at our house,
and ate our food,
And as they spoke of their ministry, they convicted and excited us.

And soon the monster within me, fed to be strong by continuing self-righteousness,
was finally seen,
and felt it's first pain,
From the influence and fire of the dragon.

I saw children preaching while standing on sidewalks,
women standing fearless to end an atrocity,
men facing arrest who stood in the right,
And those my age were spirit-filled and bold, kind and courageous.

It was just one day, although it led to many others like it, one day was enough,
and as the monster was first unconsciously fed by others,
thus it was first crippled later, unconsciously by others.
My eyes were turned inward, and the consequent glimpse brought repentance short after.

But the monster was not killed, not even subdued.
Oh no,
far from it,
For the struggle continued, some times stronger, sometimes weaker.

Sometimes it was for months forgotten,
and I unknowingly would again feed the beast,
and it would gain strength unseen,
Until by God's grace it's blackness would come again to my remembrance.

And still, this battle is not over,
my battle is not won,
The fight will continue,
But by God's grace and power will yet be overcome.





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