A poem by Adam Lambdin when struggling with pride
Jesus is the only unmoved mover ever in realtime,
And our calendars, as well as worldly thrones,
Revolve around His presence here or absence alone.
Of this, there are small examples
in our daily lives which move us instead.
Reminding us of the inability we inherently miss,
to outrun His judgments, presently forestalled.
Even a scrawny cat makes me give way at the door,
let alone thunder from skies offshore.
Yet, who am I to Him? …Only son or dissident, nothing more.
Leave a Reply