Suffering
Suffering may be physical, psychological or both
And it gnaws and terrorizes its victims
It has no respect of persons because it can torment a windblown leaf
That was once free to dance and swirl to the rhythm of life
Suffering deprives its victims of reason as they grope in darkness for light
They stumble as one beaten, trying to stand but their pain knocks them back down
They’ve sought help from doctors only to conclude that they are worthless physicians, worthless in the respect that they too have no power over suffering
So they toss and they turn and they desire rest but it has eluded them
There’s a messenger at their door, they say in a weakening voice
“Hold on, hold on”
When they open their doors the messenger smiles and hands them a letter typed in an eighteen font
They thank the messenger, close their doors and shuffles to a chair and open the envelope It reads:
“I who am The Great I Am will not despise a broken spirit or a contrite heart “
They remembered that biblical verse and lift their hands and cry out
“Help me Heavenly Father in Jesus’ name”
The next day the messenger comes back, this time they are moving more quickly
They open their doors and the messenger smiles and hands them a new letter
It reads:
“I’m so glad you didn’t veer away from the doorway of freedom and remain in bondage, with His stripes you are healed”
Copyright © Lara Wash | Year Posted 2016
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