The Low Pedestal

I was in a mood today. I was in a self righteous, I know better, isn’t everyone else dumb mood. The thing about being writer, and a lover of words is that it is a gift. It is a gift from God to be used for his glory, or to the glory of self. My dear long suffering husband can attest to how very sharp and accurate my insults can be. How very demeaning I can be with my words. God in his Goodness has refined this greatly. I try to use my words to only encourage, offer hope, and love. That doesn’t mean I have never had to confront someone, but usually it is with a lot of prayer and humility.

Yet there are days… days when I get up on my pedestal and write angry words at the world. It is crazy how low I can sink on that pedestal! Thankfully, as I read my bitter rhymes to my husband, feeling oh so smug. He gently asked me ‘What is up with you today?’. It wasn’t much, but it was the correction I needed to hear. So I wrote a poem of repentance. I am also so grateful that I did not press publish on my bitter words, and they have been safely deleted, even from the cloud (whatever that is). Not all of my poems are rosy, but I try (try mind you) to share pain in a way that is helpful and healing.

So with out further rambling here is my repentant poem:

Today I was angry and bitter,
I wrote poems aloof and aloft!
They were judgmental and harsh;
Not kind, not helpful, filled with rot.

My haughtiness fell on the page.
I sneered with my words at the world.
My pride got the better of me;
I got caught in an angry whirl.

Round and round went my impotent rage.
One insult on the heel of another.
As I thought myself witty and clever,
While demeaning life of another.

I felt right, I felt justified!
Truth is what I wrote after all…
But it screamed from such a great height;
That no one would heed its call.

Smash down this great alter I built!
The one on which I chose to stand.
Dear Father humble once again;
Set me on rock, not raised sifting sand!
Can I look in the eye of my brother,
Can I even see correctly his error.
When this plank in my eye made of rage,
Is making me an unholy terror!

I know that at times correction
Is Holy, fair, loving, and justified.
My prayer is to seek, wisdom humble.
May I never correct out of self pride!IMG_0858


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