The War Inside My Flesh Poem by Christen Kuikoua

Oh God, I stand before You like Gideon in the winepress.
A man hiding while war rages inside his own chest.
A man who says he loves You,
And I do love You, God.
But my flesh rises against me like a traitor in my own house.

Left and right it strikes me.
Day and night it drags me toward the same pit.
The same poison.
The same shame.

Ponography and all its vices.

Let the word be spoken plainly.
Let the wound be named without disguise.
I am tired of hiding behind soft language.

Oh God, I am trapped in the grip of it.

I scream from the bottom of this addiction.
From a pit I have fallen into more times than I can count.
From nights where conviction burns in my chest,
Yet my flesh drags me back to the same darkness.

I have fought this battle for years.
Years of promises.
Years of regret.
Years of saying, "This is the last time."

And still I fall.

Oh God, hear me.

I have drunk from the poisoned pool of this sin for so long
That my flesh remembers its taste.
My mind replays it.
My body craves it.

What once whispered now shouts.
What once tempted now commands.

My flesh multiplies the memory of pleasure
Until it becomes a storm I cannot outrun.

And I collapse.

Again.
And again.
And again.

Oh God, my Deliverer, save me.

Because this cup is stronger than my will.
If You do not take it from my hand
I will keep drinking from it.

And it will destroy me.

Oh God, You spoke to Gideon and said,
"Go with the strength you have."

But Lord, look at my strength.

It trembles.
It collapses.
It fails.

My willpower is weak.
My discipline breaks in the night.
My promises dissolve when temptation rises.

You see the truth that no one else sees.

You search the hearts of men.
You know the motives buried beneath our words.

Search mine.

You will find a man who is exhausted by his own failures.
A man who hates the chains around his soul.
A man who wants freedom more than pleasure.
A man who wants to walk in the light but keeps stumbling in darkness.

Oh God, I have become numb.

Numb to the cycle.
Numb to the shame.
Numb to the endless rise and fall of this war.

But even a numb heart can still cry.

So I cry to where my help comes from.

From You.
The One who made the heavens and the earth.
The One whose voice commands the sea.
The One whose breath formed mankind from dust.

God, rescue me.
Not with human strength.
Not with temporary discipline.

Break this chain.
Break the power of these images over my mind.
Break the memory my flesh keeps worshiping.
Break the patterns that drag me back to the pit.

Destroy this prison.
Because this battle was never meant to be fought alone.
Oh God, save me.

Save me from addiction.
Save me from the shame of repeated failure.
Save me from the war inside my own body.

Do not leave me in this prison I built with my own hands.
Lift me out of it.
So that one day I can stand before You without hiding.
So that my eyes can rise toward heaven without shame.
So that my voice can praise You without hypocrisy.

Save me so that I may dwell in Your presence.
Save me so that my life can become a song of gratitude.
Save me so that my mouth may decorate Your name with praises
That bring You joy forever.

Oh God, hear the cry of a desperate man.
I am Gideon in the winepress.
Weak.
Afraid.
Surrounded by enemies inside my own flesh.

But if You say,
"Go with the strength you have, "
Then take the little strength that remains in me
And turn it into victory.
Because without You
I will keep falling.

But with You
Even the weakest man
Can rise again.