His Will

Oh Lord, I want to be as beautiful 
as gold, as strong as steel. 
These traits stand out 
and draw me close with their appeal.  

But then I always shy away 
from awful burning heat. 
I'd far, far rather just forget—
and sleep.  

Gently though, I start to hear 
Your garden prayer 
and see that He heard You, 
and even still 
brought on that fiery, bitter cup—
His will.  

And then the Spirit takes
Your agony and pain 
and pictures in my mind 
the only way to gain. 
The longed-for gold and steel 
come only to the slain.  

Lord, I still don't like the 
Bitter, fiery cup. 
But I too, kneel down and 
then, to drink, rise up 
knowing You will surround 
with angel-strength divine. 
And that I'll walk on more beautiful—refined!  

Luke 22:40-46 and Hebrews 5:7 

Carolyn Roper