Скачать или смотреть From Orphan To Heir

A spoken word about the spirit and me.


Music:
Come To Me By S.F
You Make Me Brave By Amanda Cook (Instrumental)
I do not claim copyright for this music, all rights to original artists.


From Orphan To Heir
Barren,
of artificial skin,
in perpetual wondering,
Why?
It’s through this borrowed breath I breathe,
its origin for investigation
and in trepidation I consent
to see what’s underneath.

Truly,
a systematic orphan
destined for defeat, constantly in retreat from myself-
-made wreck
paralysed from the wreckage
impossibly lost was my anthem,
too useless to salvage.

And with these dry and fragile

deceitful bones
too meek for the known, they splinter.
Pews with few too many questions,
idealistic doctrine imprinted
on our minds that
hinder our understanding and blinds
us from the lies that hold
us.
Me.

Captive I felt.
Tepid narration forced me to exile

into hibernation I went.
This ragamuffin vagabond meanders:
so static,
so vage,
so very urgent.

And so
through confusion my agenda alters.
I saw all this time I’ve wasted tasting the toxins that are borderline sweet.
This obsession of numbing
running over years, incomplete was my identity
a catalyst for my catastrophe
and yet I kept striving for a deity
to only be confused by their conformity.

But as I was searching, Love waited.

On the ground I hadn’t found a reason for belief.
Still looking for that proud, aloof man who home is the street.
See my perspective was blocked by the guilt within
that I didn’t seem to be even listening.
Until one day I stopped overthinking.
I heard a knocking,
And finally asked Love to come in.

And gently did he.

I stumbled into a sacrifice
given freely
and suddenly I see.
Dawn broke out of this paradoxical landscape
the scape-goat is now my sanctuary.
An upside down kingdom where my efforts falter
but it's okay because there’s grace like no other.
To reject the light is to
embrace the darkness
and I was built with this conscious.

But I say I’ve hurt too many ways.
I’ve loved too little.
Still He pursues my permission.

Asking for aid, I surveyed, my internal battle ceases
and I concede.
My unkempt heart finally caved,
and joy began its expedition in me.
so through the crevasses unseen,
I am clean.

This fractured fortress given over to the architect who forged it.
Who knows how to best keep it,
from ever steering adrift,
giving it a Holy kiss.

I am home.

I know my security is centred on a victory already won.
Love bled Himself dry for the opportunity to see me thrive,
and for that I am justified and adopted into life.
Because when Love died.
So did I.

And when Love awoke.
So did I.
His yoke is easy and his burden is light.

Truly,
an undeserved heir
destined for adventure
constantly in reverence of my Maker,
He calls me.
Daughter of Yahweh.
He calls.

For the worlds sake, Love calls me
out to echo in Love’s name, to eradicate shame
because my exact decision to yield gave me a battle shield
to face the unknown and uncertainty
which defies the lies that wield
because healed am I.

And beloved am I.

So I start, in pursuit to venture the steadfast way
earthing on untouched terrain
this hurricane's unraveling
at the whisper of Love’s name.
A work-in-progress but accepted despite the process
as past pain trembles
'be still and know’
He reassembles my soul.

Now let passion see its decree.
He’s not only in the garden
but He kneels in the gutter with me
from void to voyage,
He understands my unbelief
Love reclaimed.

So in His name I live my life.
A life not tame,
but a life to dare.
Because He knows no conventional prayer
can ever replicate
this journey
from Orphan to Heir.