Ever present, ever lurking, ever waiting in the dark
Is a secret, a Picasso, if deception were an art
It is easy for the Christian to indulge in sin like this
Self-pity, self-protection, self-proclaimed-righteousness
We are searching for a thing we think that we own
But measured on The Scale, we see that it’s a loan
The temptation for validation is unique in this way
It masks itself as good, deserved, and ok
“Who will protect me if I don’t protect myself?”
This question, though delicious, is bad for our health
We know that our selfhood is on trial for its wrongs
For seducing the bride with vindication songs
But we can’t, or we won’t, let the jury’s “guilty” stand
For we think that our selfhood is the safest place to land
But there is a foundation more worthy of our zeal
His voice is a whisper, small and still
His path is narrow but his purpose is wide
When Self said “you need me” the Voice said “he lied”
Love will protect you, but it’s painful to make fruit
He will “trample underfoot those who lust after tribute”
So let Self hang and be punished for his crimes
And a better, more compassionate self will arise
From the ashes of disaster grow the roses of success
Vulnerability is not weakness, it is willingness
