Redemption

In the garden of my will, you made me.

Like you, but not.

Steward, not God.
Authority given
through service required,
And yet I reached for more.
To be -
not like you,
but as you.
In that one, fatal grasp
at what I could not wield,
I settled for a lesser plan,
a smaller world.

In the desert of my choice, you met me.

Manna, not stone;

Service, not self;
Dominion laid down,
by authority owned.
My wilderness awash in wine,
You came –
not like me
but as me.
The sword I could not
lift, you raised
to sever bonds
that would release
a greater plan,
a higher world.

And in the garden of your will be done, I am remade.  

-cs ©2015