Soul torment and soul’s torture
sorry, no enlightenment here today,
maybe fertile ground for devil fears
is fear of the Lord the same?
is fear of God a different fear?
isn’t it reverence, this thing called fear of God?

Respect, complex is the real fear of Gods awesome power
The power of our good God,
Fall all evil men worshiping pentagrams
I don’t know much but I know to not go in there,

I  just long for relief from my Soul torment and soul’s torture

Is all of all of this worry and wonder about depression and resurrection but a fools game? My bro tested me and teased me and asked if I could write so well from so far below, why then can’t I set the bar higher and writer from there, above, someplace heavenly. Closer to what, and where is that higher you see brother that’s hidden from me?

What you mean and what you wish for me is that you want me to get farther away from the bottom, you call me a bottom feeder and as a Christ follower that’s not where I belong. Is that what your not saying is saying?

Well, far be if from me to say you are wrong, I judge not, for I will be judged, and even where I am today I could be worst were it not for the grace of God and his music I hear played.

Meditation, medication, depression
verse chorus verse chorus
the mindlessness repetition of a sing song the church sings so lame.

While the preacher shouts ‘He is risen!” and the church shouts back, “He is risen indeed!” there in my pew is Doubting Thomas sitting with me, 27 Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.” John 20:27-29

Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”. Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

So my brother rakes me over the coals because of melodramatic affirmations in doubt, can he be right, or maybe he just don’t see! Bless him for testing me with this desire to ascend. What I don’t say out of courtesy to him is that, me, here in what he labels my freedom, the freedom he throws at me, there is spiritually not much difference than him in his penitentiary—no disrespect do I mean my brother, I love you.

We walk on different ground now. you and I neighbors once upon a time in a cul-de-sac where families were semi familiar but now we are brothers of a desire and design to be shadow’d and showered by the Lord, Christ, and his Cross. This then is the benchmark of our born again life.

I judge you not—pray just judge me free to deny the devils pull and his damnable gravity—I’m fighting the only fight I know only as I knows it and as I goes it. Here I go, one stroke at a time, one word, one line, one vision. Feel my passion and desire to expose the broken bones within me, to heal, with the help of angels and time. Acknowledge my choice of meditation and rejection of medication, all this responsibility is mine and one moment at a time is heavy. My freedom is my fight is my freedom.

Its day to day like the prayers I pray, not just sometimes, not just Sundays.

If it’s true that we are free to choose our battles, then I will choose, win or loose, to please and live in eternity with my Lord, my Father, the father of my father who I never knew and the guardians of my love’d ones departed. When I hear the ring of heavens bell I will have thwarted the devil and his hell. Then I will see Glory and my daddy and my baby and all the angels and saints who fought the fight so well before me.