I endure.
Not for the crown, nor ease, nor fleeting praise,
But for the chosen ones,
Scattered seed upon the ancient hills,
Exiled hearts in need of fire,
Wandering stars searching for the Light once known.
I bear the stripes,
Not in vain, but in vision.
That through these chains of flesh,
Chains might break in others.
That they, too,
Might taste the deliverance
Hidden in the Name, Yahusha, Anointed Branch,
Root of Dawid, Lion and Lamb.
That they might rise
From dust and doctrine,
From shadowed lies,
And enter the esteem that does not fade, Kabod Olam,
The weight of His favor,
The brilliance of His covenant unbroken.
For what is pain,
If purpose wraps around it like fire?
What is suffering,
If souls awaken in the midst of it?
So I endure, For the gathering of the scattered,
For the return of the remnant,
For the honor of the Name.
That they may obtain
Deliverance not bought with silver,
But sealed in scarlet,
Carried by the Shepherd who calls
Each name in the tongue of the Fathers.
I endure, that Zion may sing again.
© AmmiOlam.org
Restoring the ancient paths – walking in the covenant of truth.