Vacillation

“Holy!  Holy!  Holy!” they cry,

Because one is just not enough.

“What is holy?”

Said in a scoff.

 

Because we can’t even attempt just one.

 

Either crouching in fear,

Hiding under Plain clothes and a bonnet

Or on TV, shiny and showy

With nasty language chronic.

 

There is no middle ground.

 

The redeemed will give up the fight

Or simply live in legalistic fear.

The relationship, daily atmosphere

Of Jesus’ presence isn’t here.

 

What is saving faith to you?

 

Striving to get away with much

Or preaching a false gospel of man.

Do you merely want to be like Him

And grasp at only His hand?

 

Throw all of your worldly baubles and extra rules away.

 

Ten thousand rules and more

From men who lead congregations.

Standards, principles, and legalities

Lead a life of separation.

 

They fall the hardest, longest, and deepest.

 

Those that live behind a microphone,

Dress like Britney Spears.

“I have a verse tattooed on my neck!

But I want to be Marilyn Manson fierce!”

 

The millstone is around their neck as they take the long, wet plunge.

 

And then there’s you and me.

Secret sins no one sees.

Life led in the vacillating place.

Wishy washy – “Entertainment, please!”

 

We go to hell confused, “Lord, Lord!”

 

Where is the daily grasping,

Holding the Hand like you’re falling?

The armor strapped on tight.

Crying ’til your head hurts from calling.

 

“I NEED You, Jesus!  Every moment, every hour, every breath!”

 

If I only I could be one “holy”!

I’ll fight my whole life through,

By resting, clutching onto grace

And daily, hourly in Your Word and prayer too.

 

Best Friend, intimate Lover, Spirit within my soul.

 

Desperation, understanding deep sin.

Eyes wide open in front of the mirror clear.

I’m nothing, a mere worm.

How I need You, Jesus Dear!

 

That lowly path is the road to The Holy!  Holy!  Holy!

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