God Forbid
The more I understand
You, Lord,
The more I understand
I know very little.
God forbid
I stop knowing
Your power
and try to walk
this life
again
on my own;
I ever stop believing
all things work
together for good
for those who
know You,
and for everything
there is a season
and purpose
under heaven;
a mustard seed
of faith ever stops
being enough.
God forbid
You become
a religion to me,
something talked about
only to certain people,
and worshipped
only on Sunday;
I ever think of You
as a genie in a bottle
or put You in a box,
only to bring You
out when it is
convenient or desirable;
that I speak of You
as only a subject
of children’s stories
and songs,
equal in importance to
the Easter Bunny or Santa.
God forbid
I stop being
salt and light,
becoming hearer
and not doer;
I become hard pressed,
perplexed,
persecuted,
or struck down and
stop believing
my strength,
hope,
and future
are in You.
God forbid
I forget
who You are:
my King,
Lord,
Abba,
Provider,
Source,
Healer,
Redeemer,
Master,
Savior,
Center
of everything.
God forbid
Jesus starts caring
how many times
I make a mistake,
slam the door,
or walk away.
God forbid.
God forbid.
Nincompoopery 