Discernment

I’m thankful for the whisper

that rises in my bones,

the warning in the spirit

before a truth is shown.

I see beneath the sugar—

the rot beneath the shine;

discernment is a lantern,

but its light is sometimes mine.

Some days I call it blessing,

a shield that guards my heart;

I sense the shift, the shadow

before the breaking starts.

It saves me from deception,

from wolves in borrowed wool—

I nod at Heaven’s caution,

feeling covered, feeling full.

But other days it’s heavy—

a tired prophetic ache,

seeing masks before they fall,

knowing the smile is fake.

At times I have wished I didn’t know,

didn’t feel the subtle sting,

didn’t catch the tremble

of a hidden, breaking wing.

To be aware is grace,

but grace can wear you thin—

I thank God for the insight

yet long for softer skin.

Still I would not lose it;

it’s costly, but it’s true—

discernment is a burden,

yet a blessing all the way through.

Thank You, God, for trusting me

With sight I once misused—

A gift I bent toward shadowed things,

A flame I let confuse.

I listened where I shouldn’t have,

Spoke words not born of prayer,

Let discernment serve the enemy

Instead of loving care.

Yet still You placed it in my hands,

Redeemed, refined, restored—

Now I cover souls in lifted prayer,

My vision bows to You, Lord.

What once accused now intercedes,

What wounded now brings light;

I steward well what You’ve reclaimed,

For Your great name, Your glory, Your fight.