This is the story of my transformation:
I've been transformed from normal to newborn to new man, it's my emancipation.
From slave to liberator, the blood of the Savior pressed upon me and paved a new path to freedom – I shook “The Man's” plantation.
I gave it all up for a just cause just because, just as Christ gave His life and paid the price for a chosen nation,
He chose me to be a soldier in this war against the flesh and the spirit – until it's over I'll give my best, not for merit or standing ovation.
See, I was wrong for going off and on, weak and torn, full of sin,
Wavering to and fro in the wind, raging like an ocean;
Now uplifted from the lowly, marching slowly to glory – I'm telling you a true story but no, this isn't my promotion.
It's the Most High working thru Messiah, working thru me.
I'm being tried in the fiery furnace of adversity;
The wicked may persecute, but that which I seek is my Father's will, love, law, wisdom and intimate mercy.
With His Hands, He formed me from clay to gold to an eternally living soul, to perfectly fit in His mold before His oven turns cold.
I look on as He holds in His power the globe, and measures the deeds of all the righteous and the noise of His foes;
He holds in His balance all the woes of the meek and the commotion in the streets as tares are severed from wheat.
He doesn't cultivate fear – this road is a challenge for those who truly seek a companion or advocacy, but many seeds get entangled in thorns or dry up in the heat.
But I'm embalmed by the earth that's under my feet; His Word is the pasture where I can rest and freely graze like a sheep.
I extend from the roots of this powerful tree; in my palms are the fruits of His knowledge and peace.
And that warm bread of life is what I live on; it's my food, fire and sword, a handy shield that I slip on to stop wicked darts.
Yes, it consumes, quenches, and pours salvation upon sickened hearts and hordes of dry bones in the valley of Kidron that lie among rocks…
Our people call themselves "following God", but follow doctrines that got them stuck in boxes, not knowing who they are, or were, and will be in the end when Messiah again calls Jacob His friend;
They will be the recompense if they truly repent and put off the filthy garments that were given to them.
But first they must go before Him and atone for their sins, make amends, and return to His holy laws and commandments.
And now it's time for new robes, new minds, and new roles;
We all play a different part, but have the ultimate goal.
Seeing all the signs and waking up from your doze requires willingness and patience to transform as a whole.
So…how do we go, and where do we stand? Is there map in the sand to guide us back to our land?
No…but there's a light in our hearts to shine bright in our inner parts so we can project it outwardly and be lamps in the dark.
Though this light is transparent, it needs to cleave through the evil and can't be hid under bushel as to not reach all of our people.
This way of life is inherent as is our conscience and bearing, or like the fog that disperses when you come into a clearing,
Where the lion is sleeping but he's not in a jungle – and though it's not night time, instead of roaring, he mumbles
But when it is game time, he better hope he don't stumble, or that the crown which he runs for is not solely corruptible.
We run a race for that which is truly eternal, and will guide us to light;
So with temperance, subjection and humility, we do fight, avoiding with all prudence the infinite grip of inferno.
And as always, we give the Father all praise for His salvation immortal, and heed His righteous ways 'cause angels write our journals;
They take our thoughts, prayers, and all conceptions internal, and He intercepts and discerns if we are worthy and faithful.
So when the Master returns, we'll have a place at His table and a seat at His feast!
We must invest as we're able, with all the gifts we are given:
So that through faith, we're patient and grateful, because He's made His petition for us to be sealed in His book of life,
Where our names are forever written, because, before being revealed in this earthly cradle, He knew us; for by Him, we were already labeled.