Struggle XX (From Beginning to End)

By Andrew R. Duckworth

It is with you
The day you’re born,
Looking for ways
To derail the days
And trap you
In the bushel of thorns.

And the struggles of the few
Become the struggles of the many-
Become the struggles of the world.
But we all have those
Inner struggles that blind,
Drag us off behind
The walls of pain,
Devastating us with blows.

Our legendary foe,
Creeping about the garden
Easing its way to grow
Violent in the mind,
Making difficult to know
The path of victory,
Working so slow
As we move through the weeds.
The marks show
Generation to generation.

We are all lost in the desert
When we come upon the scene,
Navigating a path to water
To wipe our lives clean.
But our steps can betray us
As we lose our way
Towards the life-giving water,
The desert getting hotter
Through the unforgiving day.
But, should we persevere,
Our path will be made clear
And the foe of life be slayed.

The Truth was handed to us,
But we hated it, scoffed at it,
And we crucified Truth,
We, I, the nail driver,
Piercing the wrists of the Victor.
What a fool I was
When I walked my own path,
What a fool I am
When I walk it still.
But the same Truth
That I nailed to ancient wood
Descended to the depths
To unlock my prison cell
That was keeping me bound to Hell,
And, although He knew
I struck the nail,
He loved me anyway.

From beginning to end,
The story has been His,
Authored from the mouth
Of God, my soul formed
By His word.
The trees, the rivers,
The Earth
Shaped by Holy Breath,
The greatest author
Of the only narrative.
I can agonize for days
Over the myriad of ways
I never came to such Truth
In the days of my youth.
But what a blessing it is
That the great Author
Brought me from
Struggle and agony
To divine revelation
That only come from Truth.
How great the God is
Who sees our struggle
And then comes
As sacrifice in our stead.