I was blaming Satan and the world for my spiritual state of health, Until I checked out flesh in the mirror and spelt “S.E.L.F” as the prime suspect and culprit. Preaching from the highest pulpit but in the prayer room I’m claustrophobic. I know its deep, I know I’m weak, You know me forever gossiping But when its time for witnessing, I’m slow to speak. When its time to pray, I go to sleep. Time to fast, I go and eat. Time to stand and praise, I’d rather hold a seat. Back row, act low, hoping nobody notice me Because it ain’t hard to see I’m not what I’m supposed to be. But I don’t want to hear no lecture
Thinking Deeply about Life and Faith