Yesterday’s post got me thinking about how I sometimes wish God were not so gentle with us, that he would just muscle his way past our sins and fears and worry and guilt–and will–and make us what he has called us to be. I know that’s not his way, and I know that his way is infinitely better. But still…sometimes…
Anyway, the following poem by John Donne came to mind. I’ll let him be our guest blogger for Friday.
Batter my heart, three-person’d God, for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp’d town to another due,
Labor to admit you, but oh, to no end;
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captiv’d, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be lov’d fain,
But am betroth’d unto your enemy;
Divorce me, untie or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
Happy Friday, Beloved.