ataraxia

short breaths
a tight heart
a sense of unease

in the stillness
i see a cross
“Look to me”, i hear

the brokenness of my flesh
the stresses of this world
the attacks of the enemy

anxiety ambushes me
flooding over me
staining my peace

on the mount of Your cross,
the place of ataraxia,
there, will my peace be found

my flesh brings me down
“you’re not good enough”
“you will keep falling short”

so, what?
only in the light of Your cross
my brokenness is made whole

the world asserts its pleasures
“you are always behind”
“you will never achieve success”

what is success?
for if i am one step closer to the cross
what worldly stress means anything in eternity

the enemy spreads his lies
“it felt good, didn’t it?”
“it’s just one little sin”

back away!
to follow you is to follow trouble! to follow death!
your attacks mean nothing in the face of my Lord!

i am broken
i am weak
i am troubled

even still,
i take step forward
in You do i find that strength

a step up the mount
to the place of ataraxia
to sit at the foot of Your cross

no matter how many mountains,
no matter how many trials
You’ve already moved them all

the highest place i will ever be
is right here at Your feet Lord
what more do i need

to be a servant of the Highest One
to sit here at Your feet
in the place of ataraxia

in the stillness
i see a cross
and all else becomes clear

ataraxia (n) - calmness untroubled by mental or emotional disquiet