If Words command the angels,
Then guard the words you keep,
For angels honour what you say,
Even working while you sleep.
You bid your angels “charge”, one day,
You bid them “retreat”, the next,
You send them tossing on a sea,
A deep ocean of gray context.
Your drifting human spirit,
Sun drenched upon that sea,
Simply has not accepted,
Who is the captain? Who is the free?
Angels are attentive spirits,
Waiting for a command,
That won’t be retracted,
When doubt changes your stand.
Don’t send them to work with weathered ropes,
With sails they can not raise,
Don’t send them out with thread bare hopes,
For long and empty days.
Give them words that walk on water,
Words that calm the storm,
Words that bridge eternity,
Words that take on the form ...
Of Jesus Himself, who stands on deck,
And binds the mighty keel,
Who pulls the anchor and sets the sails,
Saying, “Matey, take the wheel”.
Sheila Willar - May 30, 2005
James 1:6 (KJV)
He that wavereth is like a wave of the sea
driven with the wind and tossed.
Copyright 2020 Sheila Willar