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Oh, warrior of the heart,
How I dream that you truly love me too,
With a passion that both inflames the soul
And a desire to serve me like a deep well
Serves a parched and trembling traveler,
As I desire in my heart to serve you.
I draw a bucket of your love to pour over me,
Softening my sweat crusted clothing
The cooling water washing weariness away,
As if Christ Himself were bathing my feet
At the last supper, the evening of His Death,
All of his disciples protesting, saying,
“No, Lord, we should be washing yours!”
And I hear my own voice echo theirs.
How can my own heart not burst with joy?
“Please God, let me live in this moment forever!
How could heaven be more dear?”

Oh, warrior of the heart,
Endure please my human weakness,
Weather my crimson wounds as well,
For all the blows that have not killed me yet
Are surely blessings in disguise, lessons learned,
And speak of my openness to Grace from all,
Certain knowledge my way is not always best.
Resting as I seek to rest on God’s word,
Give me the courage as well to explore His will
Always, always trusting in His love.
Let me not be a servant who buries his talent
In fear of the judgment of any.

Oh, warrior of the heart,
Savior, lover, friend, stranger, Samaritan,
You for whom God’s gifting in me is enough,
Never cataloging my lacks or counting my faults,
You who honor instead God’s plan for my life
You who see what He sees in me worth loving,
Allow me to serve you as well in His will.
Never view my generosity as condescension
Or my appearance in your life as judgment.
Oh, wall for me to lean on,
Oh, spring for me to drink from,
Oh, lover of my soul’s path,
Oh, warrior of the heart, I am yours!

Brian Johnston
July 6, 2015

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