Who Are You

Hear your knees give way as you fall face first into the mud. There you lay, covered in filth as the ever heavy burden lies upon your fragile shoulders. Breathe in and taste the earth as the voice above your shoulder cracks the whip into your now bleeding ears. You cannot hear a thing; say for the failure that has overwhelmed you. Stuck in the drudge of sin and failure strengths flies away life trash coming out of a car window on the highway. Filth has overcome you are even your eyes become stained and marred.
This is not who you are. His yoke is easy and His burden is light, the frame you carry it with folds underneath the immensity of its weight. Do not build your kingdom, do not mark your claim, find no satisfaction on the ground you tread. This is not who you are. Succumbing to a walking corpse each stagger is limp and wrought with incompletion. This is not who you are. Fear besets the hints of condemnation that the frame pours out like sweat in a sauna, every pour covered and breathing becomes a hallmark moment tucked back into the recesses of your hollow imagination.
Awaken my brother, awaken my sister, awaken myself to who you are. Your place is at the right side of you Maker, absorbed in the power and majesty of your Beloved. This world is not your home and the kingdoms you see and the kingdoms of your flesh are not the place of your citizenship. We are princes and princesses, full of might and strength through He who overcame death and is the Captain of our salvation. Royalty flows inside your blood as you wander as a stranger in a desolate and pain consumed land.
The Spirit that raised Christ from the dead dwells within you, death has been conquered and calls you to awaken to who you are. You are loved, enjoyed, the object of ineffable indescribable affection. Your strength lies within the joy of the ever laughing ever rejoicing triune God of wonder. This is who you are.
You were born for legislation, to command and conquer. Your mission is to lay waste all that hinders love. Who you are has been cloaked and sealed in a perpetuity of lies shrouding the blood that once purchased you. We walk in the way of the cross taking the communion of joy mixed with suffering for the blood alone turns the wheels of history. We are soldiers of love, warriors whose message may lack eloquence but drips of the insatiable dissatisfaction of the status quo. Set higher above the burning ones our dwelling is in the city where the streams of its river make glad.
This is who you are, a son, a daughter of the Living God who is high above all of creation. In Him alone is fear gone and the monkey of condemnation stripped off of your back. War is raged through the song that bounds through your heart praising He who is worthy of all power, strength, glory, and worship. Snatch others from hell as we take prisoner the enemy bringing them into the glory and joy of salvation, the eternity set within the bitter, evil, confused, and pain filled existences. This is who you, built on the Word of life, cleaned by the river of life, containing the glory of the one who is holy. Marked “Holy unto the LORD,” identity calls you forth.

Isa 33:17 Your eyes will behold the king in his beauty; they will see a land that stretches afar.

Psa 46:4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High.

Eph 2:19 So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God…