Battles

Every day there is a battle,

  A struggle in my soul.

Spirit and flesh in conflict,

  Fighting for control.

Sometimes I am so weary,

  I long to see Your face.

To gaze upon Your glory.

  To rest upon Your grace.

The days seem long and endless,

  The battles never cease.

But when Your arm is my defense,

  Then I have Your peace.

My flesh would like to rest in ease,

  But conflict makes me fight.

To win the battle I must stand,

  Depending on your Might.

Some days I’ve felt the fiery darts,

  And fallen, wounded sore.

But Grace has picked me up again,

  And Love my strength restored.

Debra Isenbletter

Springfield, Missouri