I asked God to be an artisan.
not so I could eloquently speak,
but so I could meet with God and explain the encounter.
The wind became breath.
The sun became an anthem.
The river became His lullaby.
The thunder became His rebuke.
I asked God to be an artisan,
not so I could paint perfect scenes,
but so I could show God to a world in darkness.
My brush became a trumpet.
My paint became a warning.
My canvas became a mercy seat.
My art a poor reflection of His face.
I asked God to be an artisan,
not so I could sing like the world's idols,
but so the sounds of heaven would beat against the gates of hell and overcome.
My songs became a sword.
My lullaby became a bandage.
My ballad became His love song.
My heart became silent.
I asked to be an artisan,
no so I could eloquently speak,
but so I could meet with God and explain the encounter.
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