God of the Wise 
God of the Warrior 
God of the Poet 

I’ve felt Your fury. 
Tasted Your wine. 
Held at spear point. 

And yet here I am. 
They said I would be broken, 
Would be rent asunder. 
Left with nothing but a bleeding that would never heal. 
That You held no love, no kindness. 
Naught even a bit of compassion. 

But I have felt Your love. 
Raging and ferocious. 
Your love is like a crashing wave. 
You are relentless, refusing to abate. 

No matter how I thrash, struggle, and cry. 
You do not relent, You will not. 

I am sinking, drowning. 
Yet I feel Your firm grasp. 
You refuse to let me sink. 

You pull me up. 
Then with all the kindness of a storm, You shove my being back under. 
Again, I sink and again You push and pull. 
Until I can no longer bear it. 

I reach for Your hand, rather than waiting. 
I grip You with all my might.  
You help me rise through the waves. 
Through all the darkness and doubts. 
Through all the sorrows and stillness. 

You have helped me break the surface, 
To stand on my own. 
To stand next to You.