On My Knees

I fight my battles on my knees, With the Word alive in me. I don’t raise my hands in anger— I raise them when I plead. I laid down the weapons That taught my heart to bleed. The warrior fights for power— But the son fights to believe. War taught my hands to answer every threat with force, Fear taught my heart to never question its own course. I brought that violence home and gave my anger room, Then fought the ones I loved as if their love would wound. I treated every conflict like a hill I had to take, Called control protection while my family felt the quake. I thought that strength meant standing up and forcing my command, But strength is kneeling helpless, placing them in Father’s hands. Prayer is now my weapon. Truth is my defense. I wear the Father’s armor Until the battle ends. Put the old man to death; don’t let him leave the grave. He only builds destruction from the life he claims to save. Put his anger in the ground, bury bitterness and blame. Burn the pride that made a kingdom out of suffering and shame. Raise the new man into life with resurrection breath, Teach him how to choose the cross when flesh demands his death. Make him faithful, make him gentle, make him patient, make him kind. Give him courage for the truth and the renewed heart of Christ. Put the old man Into the grave. Raise up the son Your mercy saved. Put death to death. Bring life to life. The man I was Was crucified. Everything concealed in me kept tightening its chains, And every lie protecting me transferred to them the pain. So I’m coming out of hiding; I am walking toward the light, Where truth is not condemned to death but covered by Christ. Grace does not conceal the wound or call deception right— It gives me strength to own the truth and bring it into light. Father, pull me from the shadows Where I buried what was true. Let me stand without defenses, Fully seen and known by You. Let me face what I have broken. Let me own what I have done. Grace does not conceal the darkness— It reveals the hiding son. Put the old man in the grave. Raise the son Your mercy saved. Bring me out from endless night. Make me look more like Christ. I will fight my pride in prayer. I find Your strength awaiting there. I will answer lies with truth. I will walk in grace made new. I am not the man war made. I am not my history. I am not the shame that chained me Or the lies that buried me. I am risen. I am redeemed. I am finally walking free. Father, make me every day The man HE made me to be. The old man has no claim here. Christ holds the victory. I will rise and walk within the light— The man HE made me to be.