(‘My Secret Tomb’ Poetic Prelude)

It is a tent of  FRAILTY

Wrecking my soul with much HOSTILITY 


My indwelling ENEMY 

And an ALLY with the Enemy of the Deity

The flesh

It is a wicked mesh of thorns 

Seeking to pierce my soul with SIN’s scorn 

DRAINING the spirit’s POWER 


And so strong through it’s SINFUL DESIRE 

It craves to build in my heart it’s empire 

An empire of THORNS 

Thorns in my flesh 
And the flesh which is in itself the chief of thorns 

It is Satan’s FIFTH COLUMN 

WEAKENING the INNER MAN’s defences 

By MY STRENGTH I tried to fight this weakness 

By my strength I TRIED to overcome 

But I only FAILED and found myself DOWN 


As I lay down 

I heard echoes from the BLOOD-SOAKED ground 
It echoed ‘POWER’; it echoed ‘GRACE’ 

From CALVARY’s hill it could be traced 

And I saw a MAN who WORE a CROWN of many thorns 

The echoes were of the blood of this Man with THORN-SCARRED brows 

With every DRIP His blood seemed to say 

“Your EVERY thorn of weakness I bore 

A crown made of your weaknesses I WORE 

That the POWER in My blood on YOU might fall 

That you may OVERCOME the flesh which with your soul WARS” 


JESUS wore all the weaknesses of the sinful nature as a crown of thorns 
And His GRACE avails much for me now through the blood that He poured 

His STRENGTH avails for me, and I dread not the flesh 
For in Him when I am weak, then I am STRONG.


Dorothy Budu-Arthur

(Photo credit: responsivereiding.com)


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