Tuesday, January 29, 2019

Monday Preacher Blues

A bit of free verse on the pains that go with preaching.

You say so much,
too much;
Not long-winded, 
Just too much.

Sometimes one word is too much.

"Every word", Jesus said,
"Really matters;"
An admonition
of gravity.

So I feel the weight
drag my soul
and wish them back,
all those words.

Did I really have to say all that,
get into my groove and speak my mind?

"Speak only the Word," people say.
Of course. Why not Scripture alone
on teleprompter?

No, 'preaching is the Word
expressed through personality',
said one Phillips Brooks.

I want the words back,
the laying life on the pulpit,
the groans and truth;
sincere, pure, naked.

It's Monday morning and
preachers resign.
I know why:
words weigh a ton.

Words draw you out,
flat in the street;
vulnerable, wasted,
empty, drained.

I have none left,
except to pray:
"Lord, will you release me
from this?"

Grace is real for
I hold steady 
to Him who holds me.

Joy comes in the morning.
Just not this one.

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