ASCENT

Mmm… mind on things above,

> let it rise like smoke from a Sunday candle,

> drifting past the clutter, past the weight,

> past every little earthly tug that tries to pull me down.

> I sway slow, eyes half‑closed,

> letting heaven be the only thing I look up to.*

>

> *And in that sway, I bow —

> not broken, just willing.

> Submit myself to God with a soft exhale,

> let His name settle in my chest like a bassline.

> And every shadow that used to chase me

> backs off, backs out, backs down —

> devil can’t hold a woman who knows who she stands under.*

>

> *Now the sway turns into purpose.

> He whispers I’m His handiwork,

> carved with care, shaped with fire,

> created in Christ for good works already waiting on my path.

> I feel that truth in my fingertips,

> in the slow roll of my shoulders,

> in the bluesy hum rising from my throat.

> I wasn’t just lifted —

> I was designed to rise.*

>

> *So let me keep swaying upward,

> mind lifted, heart submitted,

> hands ready for whatever good He laid out for me.

> This slow blues ain’t sadness —

> it’s ascent.

> And every note I sing

> is me stepping into the woman He made.*