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Lament about Jimmi

10/21/23, 2:03 AM

How often do we say, love?

How often do we do, love?

Our hearts are callous.

Our brothers and sisters are dying.

Their lives dried up before us.

While our eyes wet with tears.

Who is really righteous?

Who really hears the voice of God?

They say, “Here he is!

He can heal him by His mighty Name.”

How little our faith;

It’s smaller than a mustard seed.

The problem is not with God,

The problem is with me;

I am all too human.

I still have hope for faith,

That one day I will have faith,

One that is not dead;

For I know the Spirit inside me

He is great and mighty,

Changing my evil and corrupt heart.

If only I listen to Him!

How God has made it so easy!

Yet I still stumble like a rock.

I see my dead faith in his dead body.

Lord God help me bring my faith to life!

Make my faith crawl with living life!

Open up the grave and bring him back;

In my heart, it is done;

In my actions, he is rotten.

Oh God, do you have to take life

For me to truly understand?

Spare them Oh Lord, I am hard headed;

I still don’t understand!

I am a fool wandering in a wasteland.

I am dried up to the point of death

With living water in my knapsack.

I keep walking, searching for a spring;

I walk for years searching

To find I am not thirsty at all.

There is a living spring inside me.

God sustains me yet I don’t know it;

His power is in me yet I don’t show it.