Could

The “ought” was implied.
The “should” was aloud.
The “ought” laced the question,
The “should,” no mere suggestion.

The “ought” spoke of death.
The “ought” dried up my soul.
The “ought” spoken in “should”
Drowned out all that “could.”

Does my Lord long for slaves?
Men and women obligated, afraid?
Or does He long for sons and daughters
Whose hearts burn with “could”?

I could bring my perfume.
Tis worship, is it not?
“Should” would only strangle
The gift so freely brought.

I could bring my heart, my hands,
Ready for service true.
“Should” would only wither
The act of service new.

I could bring Him my faith,
My confidence, yes, my lack.
“Should” would only struggle
To lay it gently down.

Do I need to be told to wonder
At the grandeur of His plan?
Do I need a “should” to ponder
The Father’s suffering Son?

No! My heart explodes,
Don’t tell me I ought to be
A shell of empty “shoulds”
Instead of a well drawn deep of “coulds.”

These “shoulds,” they have shallowed
And oh, these “coulds,” they bloom,
My whole heart breathes deep the freedom
I will not bow a slave again.

My heart though prone to duty,
My head though full of “ought,”
My Savior asks for presence,
He asks quietly for love.

So Satan, get behind me
And stow your “shoulds” away,

Leave me be,
And let me love,
In every way my heart,
now wondering, ever

Could.

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.

Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery. Galatians 5:1