Oh, You would bring

to stir up my affections

for You

strange

it seems

You make me

run to You

when I’m disrespected

confounded by the world’s hatred

often offended

and an offense

You call me

to bless them

who hate me

those who are raging

against any slight hint of conviction

They hate You,

my Master, my Savior, my Daddy, my best friend

And

What am I to do?

Call down fire from heaven?

No,

for even the most wretched

filled with unquenchable love for evil,

yes, I

have found refuge from Your just wrath

in

the willing wounds of Your Son

the One You willingly crushed

to bless the ones who cursed You

Forgive them,

for they know not what they do.