A Polished Arrow

Thank You and praise You Heavenly Father in and for all things.

As I enter a new door, be in my all.

I choose to be a container of the things You speak and submit my all to You.

I profess Your Name, no longer tossed to nor fro.

I see the Fire of the Holy Spirit that leads me fearless through the valleys of dry bones and the sea of mourning, no evil do I fear.

No longer am I dismayed, nor do I long after the things of this world, for they grow strangely dim.

It seems fitting to give You the Glory and all praise, as my eyes are opened.

I can hear the words that 'tickle' the ear, meant to grow the pride, but amazed they whistle on by, gladly with no effect.

Where You are is my abode, that this abode is apparent on earth, just as it is in heaven.

For such things that are perceived to be far away, are now near, and for my advantage do I choose to believe the evidence of things not seen.

This faith, the substance of things hoped for, are my newfound realities, that leaves me with no want nor lack, no hope deferred, no heart-sickness, for the things I see are here for my today, but the things I don't see are in my forevermore.