Smoking flax, weak little things,
needing reminders, of what faith brings.
Bruised and hurting, smoking flax,
fragile souls, trust in God is what they lack.
Smoking flax, where is your spark,
have you hidden it, within your heart?
Backslidden ones, blown all about,
by the winds of self-proclaiming doubt.
Smoking flax, fearful ones of the flock,
stumble upon, each stumbling block.
Chomping on temptation's cunning lure,
going off with Satan, on His earthly tour.
Smoking flax, beaten and broken down,
you can't see His goodness all around.
Pride and ego, gets in your constant way,
to make room for God, in your busy day.
Smoking flax, you have no strength,
to go the distance, to go the length.
But try you will, always on your own,
and the longer it takes, the more you roam.
Smoking flax, weak, noxious things,
return to Christ, see what renewed faith brings.
smoking flax, He'll not quench or put you out,
but, He will rid you of your crippling doubt.
"Smoking flax shall he not quench."
Deborah Ann Belka
TO GOD BE THE GLORY!
Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com
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