My heart sickens within me.
You have afflicted me
With love for my enemies.
Deliver me from these binds!
Grant me my apathy!
Leave them to their perdition
To their paths of self-destruction.
May their actions
Be Your judgment upon them.
For "revenge is mine," saith the Lord.
And yet I ask You for freedom
I ask You to fix my heart.
I ask for a broken and contrite spirit
Should that breaking be painless?
Should freedom come
Outside of forgiveness?
And should I consider myself
Better in any way?
Am I not on the same path?
Would that I had humility
To awake from myself
At the sight of their doom
That the doom of my enemies
Would warn me.
Fashion my spirit in fear
And rescue me from their fate.
Moreover, their fate is not certain
They are Yours
Save Your own.
Direct me, then.
I can do nothing.
Surely I am worthless to them.
But fashion me after Your will.
May I learn from them
May they be saved
And so save us all.
Abba, fix.
Therefore,
Schmitty
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