It reminds me that as I come to my thoughts, at the core of my being, I am a creature filled with vanity, desires, and pursuits.
It reminds me that at all times I am but a drunkard trying to understand the greatest mystery.
It reminds me that I am constantly one lusting after what is proposed beauty.
It keeps me humble, makes me lowly.
Shows me as a beggar on the hem of truths cloak.
Exposes my sweet self satisfying attempts as bitter.
Beer makes me stop and remove my facade. Makes me think, write, and speak in the truth of my depravity.
I'm a rebel, a law-breaker, and a drunkard too.
Beer makes me admit all of these.
But what joy to be the destitute. To be the broken and abused. To realize the only on at fault is me.
To see that Jesus has looked at my lowly
estate. Held my tear-streaked mocking face, giving me His righteousness and holding me tight. The love of Christ becomes more real, and far more intoxicating than any drink I have known.
So I sit, on my steps by myself with thoughts in my head and a beer in my hand.
I know it's not a pity to drink alone, but rather a joy to know I am not.
Beer leaves me tipsy, that I may fall into the embrace of my Savior.
So as my bottle empties, my cup overflows
