I come behind in no spiritual gift
Not a one.
Signs and wonders occur
As I share the Word.
Stubborn hearts soften
And Jesus gains new siblings.
I am constrained to do these things.
By Love, and not of my origin.
But the gainsayers are suspicious
They allege I have no diplomas on the wall.
(Heavens, I have no wall.)
I do not hold my breath for their approval.
Their measure is evil.
Competitive and fleshly.
I battle against it
Like some plague.
Until the Spirit within laughs
And liberates.
He nudges, saying
“How can you boast in a gift?
Wasn't earned or learned, Son.
Be thankful. Period.
And occupy.
You wrote, yourself, that the dispensation
Is all of my choosing.
The Body develops
In harmony.
If it will only listen
And take the small roles
Member by member.”
Yes I hear you, Comforter
And your irony.
Better I boast in my infirmities
The stretchings, the slander,
The stoning, the shipwrecks
The starvings and sleeplessness
For sake of my Master.
And His glorious grace.
Yes, better I boast of such.
And leave the swelled heads in a tizzy.
(2 Corinthians chapters 10 and 11)
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