The internal conflict; the ongoing struggle; to deny one’s self and walk in the freedom granted in Christ’s forgiveness which leads us to live out that grace. “Not my strength, Not my throne, Christ alone.”
I feel the fracture,
Skin and spirit,
Bone and fire.
Who I was
Collides with who You’ve called.
Chains of dust around my hands,
The weight of a man I buried,
Still breathing, still clawing.
Every shadow wants my name,
But Your fire brands me
Something new,
Something unbreakable.
The war is not outside me,
It roars inside my blood.
The cross has cut the tether,
Still the old self floods.
Take this war I cannot master,
Tear the crown from what I crave.
Every victory is borrowed,
Every breath, a borrowed flame.
Not my strength, not my kingdom,
But Yours alive in me.
They carry the failure of my blood,
Echoes of battles I never won.
If I pass them only ruin,
The weight will grind them into stone.
So carve their shelter from Your fire,
And write their names in living flame.
The world still sings,
Its song of hunger,
But I am deaf to the call.
Christ is the anthem,
The only thunder
Breaking the bones of the fall.
Take this war I cannot master,
Tear the crown from what I crave.
Every victory is borrowed,
Every breath, a borrowed flame.
Father, husband, witness rising,
Not by power, not by pride.
Christ in weakness, Christ in triumph,
Glorified in me, alive.
Not my strength,
Not my throne,
Christ alone.