Spiritual Crisis Poem by Boston Kelley

My soul belongs to the Lord,
yet it clings to something other than Him.
I say I am His servant, but my life
appears to serve myself.
I preach what I hold dear, yet my actions
fall short of my words.
I search my soul to understand myself,
only to find an awful mess scattered all
about.
My words fail me, for they fall short of my
emotions.
This very hand struggles to move as
this confusion grips me tightly.
Temptation after temptation surround me
on all sides; their voices overwhelm my senses.
Like a warrior, I press on with all my strength,
but I am still human; I have my limits.
The stress of this life bears down on me
as my commitment to the Lord I try to remember.
Earthly things call my attention, drawing me away
from my one true Peace.
If I push on, I will, but, like every man, I will fall
when my body exhausts itself.
The heaviness of life I try desperately to hold up;
my arms quake uncontrollably to support the
massive load.
Look on me with pity and see where I have gone.
Don't turn a blind eye to my troubles.
The Lord's voice I hear and disregard; His commands
I know, yet I hold them in higher esteem.
An order-based Christian, do I think of myself; my
perfectionism do I place on my beliefs.
The perfect believer I try to be, hoping to avoid
all sin and malice. A state of complete balance
and perfection I look toward, but how can my imperfect
self ever reach there?
My God, you establish ethics for us; your commands
provide a guide for our lives. But how can we ever
truly live out your commandments?
What hope is there for us to be ideal Christians?
So many mistakes others make that I wish to
avoid; where they have gone I dearly hope to
never come there.
This spiritual life I deeply ponder and reveal myself to
myself.
Where I shall go will be decided in time.