You don’t know what’s good for me.
Yes, I’m looking at you, Flesh.
You say that because desire is knocking, I should just open the door.
You whisper, “After all… doesn’t freedom mean no more closed doors and locked windows?”
You would advise that I sit idle while my home is robbed… even that I should personally hand over my treasure, fully knowing that tomorrow I would see you publicly trample it underfoot in the dusty street.
No, you don’t know what’s good for me. You are lawless; knowledgeable only in the ways of deception and destruction.
It’s true what they say: dead men tell no tales.
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Read Romans 8:1-17
Liv'n'Hope 