Sunday, September 14, 2008

Is it Well (With My Soul)

Are you alright, baby? Your soul looks sick.

Is it well?
Is it well?
Is it well?
Well is it?

This is the story of how to get free.
Not got free, but bought free
At retail price

This is a story of stumbling through
Transformation with deliverance on your shoulder, sin on your back, and grace at your side

This is a story about having to walk
With humility because pride won’t letchu ride

Is it, well?

This is the story of how a soul got foreclosed upon and sold on the auction block at the court house steps but mercy stepped in and said
Not Guilty!

This is the story of how you slow danced with Regret on Saturday night, while claiming to be looking for Love, and cheating on self respect
Trying to get some re-re-re…reconciliation!

Is it well?


This is the story of how inadequacy keeps calling in those summer winds
And emptiness keeps encouraging you to fill yourself with more of it to keep from starving
And abuse smiles and gives you a little vinegar for your thirst, but patience steps in and does her perfect work, turning all your battle scars into testimonies.

Are you well?

This is the story of
The you that you could be should be
Stuck in the land of improbability
With no phone, and no cents to make a call for help.

This is the story about how you forgot about the calls and started up at the wall cause you never felt so small
Until you heard the Holy Lamb issue a gentle call
Saying, “I’m here.”

Yes this is the story of how we “made it over the rainbow”
While wading in the “some how some ways”
And trudging through the “Get theres”
While looking over the mountain of the men that we believed we are
Wishing on stars made of
Backlight in hallowed
Hallways of dreams we wade
Thinking that because were “intelligently designed”
That we’re somehow self made

Are you grateful every day you wake up knowing you’re saved!
To know that you could be plot number 129 million and one of the 129 million people who didn’t see this day?

A confluence of soul ties
Had been binding you to your entanglement
So thick that a simple comb just wouldn’t do
But someone stroked your hair and pulled the knots until it was soft, flowing and new

You see God doesn’t have to do anything
To be everything
His faithfulness bright as the morning stars
But it outlasts each and every one of them

No explanation needed
No assembly required
No repayments found

I love him because when I looked up,
He looked down

This is the story of how
And it is well, It is well, with my soul.

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