When you were younger,
you believed my every word.
We traversed the garden together,
and we saw the four corners of the world.
We walked through the dense forests,
where we mimicked the singing birds.
We relaxed beside still waters,
and dipped our toes into its cold shores.
We climbed up the highest peaks,
and played in the freshly fallen snow.
Oh, how I remember the devotion of your youth.
Your love as a bride,
how you followed me into the wilderness,
In a land not just yet sown.
But the things of this earth became too familiar,
and you outgrew what you once had known.
You no longer see me as your husband,
your provider, or your home.
I wish I could give you everything that you asked for,
without it causing you to spoil.
I wish I could share with you my abundant knowledge,
without your pride taking over.
I wish I could show you all the riches and treasures of this land, without you clinging to them as your Savior.
I want to show you all that I’ve created,
and all that I behold.
But you have become self-centered, and if I did,
you would no longer call me Lord.
You have robbed me of the ability to take care of you.
The blessing of my hands,
turn to weapons when you hold them.
You misuse them, abuse them,
idolize them, and worship them.
You leave me with no other choice,
but to withhold from you your promised inheritance.
For when I give you food for your stomach,
you divide it unequally among the masses.
A few of you become gluttons,
while the rest are made anemic.
When I bless your nations with possessions,
a greedy few keep it for themselves,
and the rest are left to live as peasants.
Night after night, I hear your screams and cries for help.
Do you know what that does to me?
As your father?
Do you think I enjoy watching my children suffer?
You cry to me for healing.
Yet you won’t receive my remedy.
You turn to witches, healers, and doctors.
You take all the other drastic measures.
You accuse me of being silent.
Yet you’ve never read my 66 love letters.
I speak to you unceasingly.
Yet you shrug it off as just the wind whistling.
When I make your path straighter,
You thank the pagan Gods,
You become lazy and in the relief of it all,
you let your guard down for the devils claws.
I am omnipresent, I am not bound by time or space.
I experience it all equal and the same.
But you, you are confined by the past,
the preset and the future.
Your three states of existence
all desire and demand different things from me.
No matter what I do or say, one of your hurting.
For unlike me, you are inconsistent,
and you often go against your own word.
But I am reason. I am just.
I am holy, loving and pure.
I know you lack the foresight to see what’s coming.
Therefore, I will take your every scoff.
Your angry, bitter, painful cries-
which blame me for all your faults.
I will endure your silent treatment,
and intentional defiance.
I won’t let your insults or rejection,
cause me to reject you from my presence.
For I cut a covenant with you,
before you left your mother’s womb.
Though you leave my side,
I will never leave yours.
Your feet may take you far and wide,
but my spirit still dwells safe inside.
I understand that my mark on you,
has set you too far apart.
It causes you to feel alone,
removed and hopelessly lost.
You will only ever feel cursed,
if you look at this in the wrong light.
If you try to attain this world,
my discipline will be a sharp knife.
Please, my child, look at what I’ve done like so:
You are consecrated, holy, divine and purposeful.
No amount of normality, meekness or humanity can ever drown this out.
Your heart was made to follow me.
It will beat out of rhythm,
and send pain through your nervous system,
if you try to force it to enjoy the things of earthly origin.