The Power to Yield

In the quiet dawn, a restless heart takes hold, With a spirit armed, a story often told. We face the world, with shields held high and fast, For the empty spaces, too profound to cast. Submission's whisper, sounds like shame or fall, A crack in virtue, answering the call.

Oh, to obey, is better than the fire, To hearken closely, higher than desire. And submitting gently, in the fear of God's grace, Finds us healing, in this troubled, human race.

Not a burden forced, or a command to bind, But a spirit given, a willing heart to find. Like our Master walked, no demanding voice, His life, a pattern, a selfless, sacred choice. For true devotion, is not a thing we ask, But a quiet offering, behind the daily task.

And what of reverence, this "fear of God" we seek? To see His image, in the humble and the meek. It's not their worth, that bids our spirits bend, But God, our Father, on whom our lives depend. The world's deep sorrow, for this truth we yearn, To listen truly, lessons yet to learn.

Oh, to obey, is better than the fire, To hearken closely, higher than desire. And submitting gently, in the fear of God's grace, Finds us healing, in this troubled, human race.

If His voice is calling, in the soft morning air, Answer with a whisper, answer with a prayer. For a life unprayed, is a life astray and lost, May His blessings guide us, whatever be the cost.