Bequest in the Spirit

That cloak he laid upon me

And called me from the plow

My days of crops and husbandry

Were over…until now.

I watched him school the prophets

So eager for God’s word

And many a time presuming

What they thought they’d heard.

But he was oh so patient

Especially with me

And smiled that trusting smile that said

Eventually I’d see.

His life had been a campaign

Against the thrones of sin

And few observed

The way he served

The jams that he’d been in.

But never once deserted

Jehovah by his side

The land athirst

His name accursed

And so he had to hide.

And now he comes to Jordan

Suggesting I depart

But stay I will, his student still

And pressed close to his heart.

He takes that cloak, that mantle

And strikes the waters’ flow

The wash recedes


And over we both go.

The clock is ticking fiercely.

Might I take up his cause?

To raise in folk a better heart

And hunger for God’s laws.

And now the clouds have parted

A fiery chariot shows

To lift my Master God-ward;

And I the one he chose

To humbly take that mantle

And turn and without doubt

To strike again the Jordan’s flow

And see the campaign out.

(2 Kings 2)


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