Warner's TheoBlog

Thoughts from a disciple who writes

A lament of thanksgiving

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I hate the door to my prison.

It stands, apparently immovable, between me and the outside.

It stubbornly refuses to move, to open or to fade away.

I remain here, in my prison.

 

Yet, this prison is a gift from you, O God.

A holy opportunity to spend time in your presence.

Your presence fills my cell and your voice is clear and fluent.

How wonderful it is to be with you.

 

My human nature rebels against the walls,

yet my spirit soars without limitation.

Time in your presence is never wasted.

True freedom resides in being where You want me to be.

 

I could kick down the door and run outside,

but all I would achieve would be to escape my freedom;

an escape from your presence;

an escape from your perfect will.

 

I will wait for you, O Lord my God.

I still yearn to see you open the door to my cell.

Because then I will be released

and together we will walk into the light.

 

Lord, come quickly.

Father, fulfil your promises.

Make real the visions of my youth and the promises you gave.

Lord, open the door for me to walk with you into the light.

 

I yearn to be free,

yet I will not walk out of my prison if you do not walk with me.

I no longer fear solitude,

because you are with me and closer to me than ever.

I am never alone,

because you are here with me, O my Lord and my God.

 

When the prison door is opened, I will dance into the light.

But,

until then,

I will dance in the dark.

 

I will dance because of your love and grace.

I will celebrate your mercy and open handedness.

I will cavort and spin and bounce and sway,

because you are God and I love you.

 

Be with me Lord.

Be with me, my Father.

I do not hate my prison cell.

I don not hate your presence.

 

I hate the sin that holds me here.

I begrudge the nature in me that needs to be changed.

I acknowledge this is the way by which you are changing me.

In truth, there is neither prison nor freedom, there is only your presence.

 

O my Lord and my God, do not wait forever.

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Author: nigelthewarner

Disciple, husband, father, writer and football fan.

One thought on “A lament of thanksgiving

  1. I’m sure, Nelson Mandela must have felt this way in prison and when set free, only ours is more exciting.

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