Father, this time is Yours.
That 30-minute blog challenge?
Apart from You, I can’t.
Let my perfection unhinge
And let my soul rant.
They say I’ll make bad art,
And that this is okay.
But that means yielding my heart
And getting my pride out of the way.
Do I really have time
To waste on encouragement unspoken,
To withhold Your Words on my mind
Because my words are broken?
Forgive me for stagnancy—
Dissolve my muteness,
Pride in exchange for blatancy:
May You use my mouth to bless.
Today, I’m 29 because You
Made me and saved me.
The times ahead, many or few,
I gift to You freely.
And, Father, this time is Yours.
