Wed 10:21 am – Daddy Psalm to the Enemy
December 5, 2012 | Comments | Daddy Art, Daddy Update
“Joel is in the final downward spiral.” “There’s no medical hope for him.” “There is no cure.”
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And yet, I have stubborn hope.
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No matter how often the enemy’s words punch me in the stomach, knock the wind out of me and cause me to flirt with despair, there is a current that pulls me back into pools of hope.
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His cry, his need, his ability to melt into my side as we sit on the living room recliner, they all remind me that he is still very much here, very much alive, and not dead.
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What is it to contend with the Lord for his life and against the accuser who seeks to destroy him?
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He is the Lord’s. He is a child of the king, and Jesus loves him. so much. so so much.
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But he is also MY son and I love him SO much. He’s MY son, Satan. He is My son you little cockroach. How far you have fallen to take pleasure in the destruction of sons? How often your own fear is on display as grand marshall of your genocide parades. You show your hand far too often to play cards well. For you hold nothing but jealousy, malice, enmity, hate and death in your hand, and yet, you continue to bluff and bluster, and hiss and howl your empty threats.
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You cannot win and so you maim, and afflict, and accuse. You cannot steal me from His hand, for I am His. I will not raise an accusation to the Holy one. For He is the Lord and made all things. All things belong to Him, all things were made for Him. I exist for His pleasure, and you will not have the satisfaction of my destruction. You will not have the satisfaction of destroying Joel, for He is MY son and I have given Him to the Lord of Lords, to the King of Kings. How pitiful your empire. How limited the expanse of your domain, for only the earth is yours. An infinitesimal blue orb in a sea awash with fire and dust.
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Your heights extend for a little while your depths may be measured by fathom. You are a minor prince and your little rock world is dying. You have poisoned it, and you will die in the hollowed caverns of its molten core. Then you will be thrown into a lake that burns forever and ever.
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I see the reflection of its coal in your fearful eyes. For that is all that sustains you, the only substance that flows through your cold veins, pure, blue fear. For there is no life in it.
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Fear is cancer’s preservative, its embalming oil and you oh Satan are fear’s oil salesmen. A snake, a serpent, a dragon with snuffed out coal on his breath; molting, talons broken from the struggle to free yourself of your own skin.