By Still Waters I

Let Her Work!

I flee,
slapping
at the stinging
Troubles
(ordained)
as if they were
so many
bothersome
mosquitos
I don’t want them
I dodge
resist
and push against
Barriers
(divine)

Serenity is gone
I can’t pray.
I am
brought
low.

Count it
All Joy.

What?

Count it
All Joy.

Oh…
That’s what this is.
The trying of my faith.

Patience
is being worked.
A perfect work.
A perfecting work.
A completing work.
An entire work
A work that leaves
no want.
I see that now.
Let her work!
Oh God of wisdom.

(from James 1:2-8)

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Let Her Work!

Aside