Desiring Holy Gallantry
I don't know when exactly this Portal opened, but it did. And its inhabitants gnaw and cast worry like frenzied silhouettes against the backdrop of my mind. Fearmongers. Parasites and Consumers of Joy. Who will rescue me? Jesus can. Yet, in the same breath as my plea, I relinquish the lifesaver for the savage swarm. Holy Spirit, forgive me. I am Jonah, mourning the plant above my neighbor's suffering. Help me to find peace in Your Perfection. Solace in Your beauty. Courage in your everlasting kindness. Help me to truly find your grace singularly sufficient, longing for nothing more than to witness your unveiled beauty. Make my desire my own decrease as you are magnified in my pervasive frailty. There is not room for Death Nor atom that his might could render void Since thou art Being and Breath And what thou art may never be destroyed. "No Coward Soul is Mine," Emily Bronte