Seeds

There have been times I've been made to feel like a baby while dressed like an adult
There have been times I've been made to feel like an adult while bundled in children's clothing

The combination of the two have left me at an early age longing beyond my years
To be what I'm becoming but certainly, not only

My desire is to accept Mercy's identity.. whatever that means
Because there are times though still brief, where I know Him better

All else has failed me
Even if they're nice deeds

My heart has great interest to hear His rebuilt body breathe
And how she will breathe!
Even if just a remnant

His Spirit cannot be denied where it needs
Chains were never weakened by just letting them be

The Word responds to the heart according to how it is kept
Some grounds still dry where repentance didn't sound like the season where it wept

Some are in a constant state of weeping
But in fear at how the thief might torment

Some grounds seek sensation
But their lack of longing for depth only leaves seeds in a brief sprint towards death

Harsh days are definitely acquired simply by receiving truth
But in time, the seed of that season will be sown into the new

Faith.

You'll be tested if you have it.

Grace.

You'll see its substance like growth in desolate paddocks.

Life ceases in purpose when the Word isn't heard,
read,
spoken,
leapt at,
sat with
and allowed to transform.

Words are powerful things when you pledge allegiance with them
Grounds are only affected when roots take to them

Isn't your heart gasping for air with how it reminds you it's beating?
Aren't you disinterested with everything except for how the Lord is breathing?

How He is breathing on us.
Even now, where we are reckless sleeping.