The Fire of Judas, the Feet of Christ
Spoken Word by Mikey & V
There’s a fire in me.
And some days,
it feels like Judas.
Not because I want to betray Him—
but because I want the Kingdom
so bad,
I burn through the plan to get it.
I want justice now.
Glory now.
I want tables flipped and thrones shattered
and the empire to choke on its own pride.
I don’t want to wait.
I want to watch Heaven crash like thunder
and finally feel the storm was worth it.
But then I look down…
And I see Him.
Not standing with a sword,
but kneeling with a towel.
Not calling armies,
but washing the feet
of men who still don’t get Him.
Including me.
Because Judas kissed the King—
but not in worship.
He wanted a crown
on his terms.
He wanted the Messiah
to move like a revolution
instead of redemption.
And when that didn’t happen,
he didn’t just walk away—
he sold what he couldn’t control.
But me?
I’ve felt that fire too.
I’ve clenched my fists
with holy rage
and unholy timing.
I’ve tried to pull Jesus into my plan
instead of letting Him crucify it.
But I didn’t cash Him in.
I fell at His feet.
Because when the fire flared,
His mercy burned brighter.
And He didn’t push me away.
He just looked at me—
and asked for surrender.
Final Word:
I carry the fire of Judas.
But I choose the posture of Christ.
I don’t kiss for betrayal.
I kneel for transformation.
And even when my passion tries to outrun His purpose,
I come back to the only place my fire can be refined—
at the feet of the King I refuse to control.

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