Stop.
Is this the rhythmic mantra
You want filling your head?
Repeating endlessly on and on
And on until you're dead?
Stop.
These thoughts that repeat in your mind
Minute by hour by day,
I'm here to tell you these words in your head
Are the barricade in your way.
My hair: not great.
My clothes: not great.
My body: not great.
Stop.
My height: not great.
My figure: not great.
My fitness: not great.
Stop.
You are not your hair.
You are not your clothes.
Believe it or not, you're not your body,
So dismiss your ineloquent woes.
Your body has a height.
It has a figure too.
It has a level of fitness
Based on the actions you choose.
But you are not your body.
Your body merely displays you.
You are a soul built eternal
To find joy in that which you do.
Stop.
Here is a rhythmic mantra
To replace the one in your head.
Let it echo eternal, on and on,
Even after you're dead.
My soul: redeemed.
My worth: in Christ.
My sin: crucified.
Yes.
My mirror sees Christ.
My family sees Christ.
My friends see Christ.
Yes.
I am not my body.
I am Christ's Redeemed.
My sin is dead, drowned in the blood
That has made me clean.
YOU ARE READING
Hallelujah
RandomA collection of my poems written in worship of God the Father and our Lord Jesus Christ throughout my childhood and into my teen and adult years. Compiled as I found them in my many, many journals; no particular order to the poems.
