Armor

The last lie I told lay exposed as it fell from my lips —
naked before the sharp and smiling stares,
now not just of disrespect, but contempt.
Years ago that was, and I burn with shame still.

And when I burn another way — as men are known to do —
I know these eyes belong to God
but I live in a body and I have no wife,
and my heart is broken, and I’m alone.

I have the habit of solitude, learned from ancient betrayals.
It’s a reflex now, quick flight and refuge,
stomped out exile of focused rage.
And more than peace, sometimes, I want revenge.

I’m not a humble man, but swift and strong, and proud.
And pain I can’t ignore I store up,
and facts I can’t recall I look up,
and I don’t ask for help and won’t accept it.

But what will I do
           when I burn
                 with shame,
                 and desire,
                 and rage?—
           and when I crumple
                    with weakness?

I will put on the armor of God
                     and bind myself in truth
                     and wrap my heart in righteousness
                     and follow the path of peace
                     and put my faith in God.

_____


It's hard to just say it flat out, but this is, or course, an application of Ephesians 6:11-17. Take a look at it.

J