I kneel in surrender,
A servant of the Most High King.
Stockholm Syndrome,
Deeply in love with my captor,
Captive, yet everywhere to go in freedom.
A slave to His will,
Saved by grace,
I am covered in the blood
Of the greatest love.
A volunteer in His war
With victory long held,
On the front lines of the fight
A living martyr for sovereignty.
He commands, I obey.
He calls, I answer.
He sends me, I go.
He asks, I say “yes.”
My life is not my own,
A vessel for living water,
Cracked, broken, and overflowing,
Like a garden, watered with a spring
Whose waters do not fail.
I spill as I walk,
My strides matching His,
He pushes me, more spills out,
Heaven floods earth.
I stumble and fall,
He lifts me to my feet.
“Well done, my good and faithful servant.”
“Well done, my good and faithful servant.”
“Well done, my good and faithful servant.”
“You are fighting the good fight.”
“You are running the race.”
“I am proud to call you my son.”
