Fiercely

Jesus,
teach me to love fiercely--
to not give up for being wounded,
to not despair when change is not instant.
To not hold back for fear
or self-preservation.

Teach me not to accept,
but to love.
To open myself to all the pain of knowing fully.
Teach me to rebel against that which is not as it should be--
in my own heart as much as in others',
if not more.

Train my hands to fight.
Help my ears to hear.
Remind me it's not up to me,
that You are stronger,
and it's You who will deliver.

Train my eyes to see
where the past and the future meet,
to know the moment that is now,
in which all our histories collide
with the only story that can change their trajectory.

Teach me to love recklessly,
to hold nothing back, nothing in reserve.
Life is not lived when my eyes are on my own supply
or my own preservation.

Teach me not to back down from a fight,
not to assume I have no part to play,
not to pretend it's not my job to pray;
not my job to love those who are broken,
no matter how well put-together they appear.

Teach me to stand
when it seems everyone else is running,
to hold the ground next to someone
whom others fear will be struck by lightning.
Not to show they're right, but to prove they're loved.
Not to let things slide, but to hold them to a standard.

Let my brokenness reflect Your light.
In my weakness, prove Your thundering might.
We all know I'm not perfect.
We both know if it's up to me it's doomed.
Because my track record is a perfect row of failures,
But Yours is an unbroken streak of wins.

I've seen You redeem what seemed unfixable.
I've watched You bring victory
where all we've ever earned is loss.
I've seen You embrace the worthless
and pour all Your worth into us.

Teach me to love like You love:
to fight, to pursue, to defend;
to break myself to spare another;
to hope when all seems lost,
to grin in the darkness,
and sing in the desert.

Teach me to love with a heart of fire,
light as dangerous as it is warm,
unafraid to risk dying out
as it reaches to spark the nearest branch.

I have one life, one fleeting flame.
And I'd bet it's better to spend
what resources and time I have
trying to spread that fire rather than quench it,
striving to burn out brightly
rather than slowly wane.

So, Father, teach me to love,
and to love fiercely.