Refiner's Fire

 An end to all the moto talk,

and chest-beating just fades away

as I no longer walk the walk

and am compelled to face each day 

on its own terms, and not on mine;

I am a hostage to its whims,

to the flame that may refine

my soul from oh, so many sins.

At least I hope and pray it's true,

that cancer is a crucible 

and when its work at last is through 

the remaining irreducible

parts that long ago were me

are fit for Holy company.

The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is SAME.

Jesus Christ, He is the same

now, yesterday, forevermore,

and we praise His holy name, but do we really know the score,

that He did not one day decide

to take the Cross, free us from sin?

In His DNA was pride

that would not let the devil win.

We have that double-helix too,

deep within what we ignore,

but if we go and push on through

faith's heavy-hung and golden door,

we can stand next to the bloke

who saved us all from Hades' smoke.

Three minutes thirty.

Sylvia's been through the fire. Her advice is to work on my tan.