Like riding a bike,
Coasting christians
find it easy with
The wind behind and
The slope descending
Hands in the air rejoicing
in freedom from care
But when the wind quiets
And the grade flattens,
Then steepens
Coasting slows and stops.
The work of love hardening
The true test of faith beginning.
You can’t coast uphill.
Even though the yoke is easy,
the burden light,
and not beyond our strength
to take up our cross,
Still, it is work
Hands down, head down,
Legs on fire
Christ did not coast
to the cross
He climbed that hill