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Vulnerable and Wild

September 3, 2016

Don’t ever let me be so sure

Just from what’s been said before

That I don’t seek Your Very Face

And ask to know You more

Don’t let me trust the memories of words held in my head

But bring me to my knees to hear afresh what you have said 

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“Trust in me

Come as a child

Vulnerable and wild

And free.”

 

If only there were pages with words in black and white

That I could read and confidently say what’s wrong or right

If only there was somewhere written down a list of rules

By which I could tell evil from the good and wise from fools

But Black and White together now for so long have mixed to grey

So bring me to my knees to hear  afresh what you will say

 

“Trust in me

Come as a child

Vulnerable and wild

And free.”

 

So all I have’s this Living Word still breaking into light

And the gusty Spirit that billows in, breathes out and blows my mind

And this company of sinners who are washing out their hearts

And listening for the whispered clues for where on earth your Kingdom starts

 

“Trust in me

Come as a child

Vulnerable and wild

And free.”

April 2004, 5 weeks into the first subjects of my M.Div, after an altercation with the lecturer, this was my poetic attempt at making a covenant of posture for studying – to be vulnerable and wild. 

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