Not Just Sundays (2) Poem by Michael P. Johnson

We must escape our septic jail
Through faith and self-denial
Resolve God’s righteous hill to scale
And wipe off Satan’s smile

Shadows will flee the shameful mind
Where sin once flexed it’s might
Hell’s stressful coils will soon unwind
Through Jesus’ guiding Light

We dare not lax a moment more
Relenting where there’s sin
Our change will end the devil’s score
As bride of Christ, we’ll win!

But wayward lives have first to cease
Tear down the foe’s disguise
From selfishness we must decrease
And burn our robes of lies

Repent, while Christ is still in sight
Remove each thorn of shame
Destroy the strongholds of the night
Confess in Jesus’ name

In truth, the devil’s chains will fall
The truth will wash us clean
In God’s own strength we’ll walk so tall
As Jesus’ righteous queen

Demonic wine though yet may flow
Their darts fly night and day
Acknowledge Christ where we go
The Lord will guide the way

Salvation’s not just Sunday morn
Best now we understand
It’s through the truth in Christ reborn
We’ll dwell The Promised Land…