Before words melt into indistinct ones
Before relational touch is lost like wispy clouds
Before then, O Sustainer, I pray way before then
Let me be true to myself and whole again.
Who hasn’t seen it, can anyone anywhere deny it
A storm as it gathers, as it bears down and batters
Yet at the end, it must wither and completely disappear?
So, surely as the pesky storm, my future is clear with fair weather!
Among the countless virtues of my Lord, there are three
Speaking volumes to me in my odd situation, setting me free
When I turn to Him in contrition, I know that He will be
Instantly and always forgiving, and of the following believe you me
Forgiving of the most heinous choice, altogether effacing jeopardy!
Man, am I in trouble, knee-deep in trouble, loser-trouble!
When it comes to faith, I can be so abundantly flippant
About goodness, in work or speech, I’ve been unfailingly, like, forget it
Never advocated purposefulness, standing up for truth or trustworthiness
Made myself a faint, broken shadow whenever push came to shove
So, never had to practice patience in these challenging pursuits
Yes, I could be counted upon to be unaccounted at the forefront.
I am neither an island unto myself nor a leader to man
Yet my bogus persona touts “leave-me-alone self-sufficient”
My example only ruins me, leading me to absolutely nothing
So, whose fool’s paradise am I treading, who am I kidding
What am I wanting is really the question begging asking
This would be crystal were my head free of ridiculous hubris
And my heart separated from downright tom-foolery!
With freedom of choice, O Creator
Us have You blessed aplenty
Yet unsatiated and fooled
Being, I dare say, ingrate
We want but more
We tire oh so easily
Responsibility is way yesterday
Duty, alarmingly tedious
So hemming, freedom robbing
Clueless as to modesty
We blare as with broken reeds
Putting out our best jewels for strangers to see
With so many unforced errors
Technology rushes to rescue posing as You,
But unlike You, time and again
Behavior a royal pass given
So, how are we to turn the corner
When a corner we do not seek!
I don’t know about you, but my mind is made up
I’ll take the high road and play it smart
Avoid the Tsunami that ravages the earth below
I seek only to avoid proven and imminent misadventure
Neither fear of the unknown nor distaste for adventure is a factor
Neither superstition nor fatalism point the needle in my compass
I know with one step toward Him, He will rush ten paces toward me
And if I am errant by one step, He will back away by just that much
I choose to play this game where the odds are stacked in my favor.
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Once viewed as an impulse control failure, GA has been reclassified as a mental disease. No matter what gambling has been to a person, how it has arrived and is pursued – as a past-time or a challenge, casually or regularly, self-discovered or inducted, as an early starter or a late-comer, openly or secretly, in solvency or in-debt, family-sensitive or irresponsible - girded by precarious financial condition, its steely grip produces tremendous psychological and emotional
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