My Father the King

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    My Father the King

    I started out on the wrong foot
    My first step cautiously hesitant and unsure
    As I would tip toe in cold world waters
    Oddly the foundation proved just as strong
    I was enveloped by the path around me
    Treading, drowning during my steps to follow
    I never thought I needed any one ‘round
    Until I was face down on the ground
    I could smell fear and hear sinful hounds

    I looked to the heavens when I gave myself to Him
    I begged Him for help to stop tearing at my soul
    With His accent words written so long ago
    I wrapped them around my spirit and began to grow,
    Jesus is my Lord and I know it’s true
    My beautiful wife, my healthy kids and my life is new
    My spiritual resurrection was hearty and my heart too
    I must keep in mind the walk and mind my feet
    But I’d have it no other way when I claim my seat

    Otherwise I would have never known God
    My old self, is on the shelf, for others to view
    Check it out, ask me, ‘How does He know you?’
    I’ll tell you everything because God wants to
    He used me as earthly proof of mercy and grace
    How misguided I was, how I didn’t know a thing
    I thought I handled it all but couldn’t stand the sting
    Now I choose to worship, work, play and sing
    In the name of Jesus, my Father, my Heavenly King

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    Spal’s Poems (5)

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    The Potter's Ground 0
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    My Father the King 0
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