But Lord, You Run Her Like The Military!

 

But Lord, You Run Her Like The Military!

     The warring Church will suffer.  She will continue to engage the enemy.  Her blood will be let. Her soul will be spared. And life will come to many as receive Her message of conception.

     Lord, I want my yes to be “Yes, Sir!” and consecutively my response to be “No, Sir!” when false abounds.  Do You expect more?  Only simple obedience.

     When “Duck!” means “Duck!” and time not spared, a whizzing bullet threatens my head if not my Brother watching.  “Hey, who’s in charge here anyway?”  The Man who gets the charge.  That’s who.

     I was never commissioned in this man’s army.  I was never given that kind of responsibility.  Rigidity in a manner of calling over one man’s soul is far beyond my making.  But Lord, You still call me to sacrifice.

     The Church.  Your Church.  Built upon You, the Rock.  How She has prevailed!  The waves of Hell have beat against Her only to meet the bedrock foundation.  As a castle, She does not cave about a mud base.  Through lightning and storm, fiery fumes of froth lighted and blown about by gale, the menace continues to swell his scaley, red skin.

     I don’t know about serpents.  Thoughts of a fifty-caliber eating up its backbone in short bursts brings only satisfactory imagination.  I need thee, O Lord, in all your knowledge, to grant me the calmness to trust on Your revealed Word.  Only You know these rules.  The ones of combative guidelines set about in the beginning.

     Tonight, I lay my head down.  I rest in Your presence.  Please exercise me in a manner worthy of my calling.  If I cannot obey commands to bring blessing, then deal will me, ever-so-severely, to teach me the effectiveness of Your upward calling.

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