As I was reflecting on Luke 17, I had the desire to write a poem about the 10 lepers...
I lived outside a certain town, Where my children could roam.
I had everything I could ever ask, I truly felt blessed,
Until I fell sick one night, and I could not rest.I woke the next morning, lesions covering my back
I prayed that it was not what it seemed
But sure enough with the physicians check,
I was condemned a leper, diseased, unclean.
I was sent to die with others cursed,
Outcast from town, outcast from life,
Outcast from what I had first.
And sent to live a life of strife.
My family was gone, my home taken away,
Every dream that I had, faded to gray.
The gray of my skin, the gray of the sky.
Everything gone taken away.
One day as my "friends" and I waited the day,
We saw a crowd coming, we heard what some say,
A man, Jesus, the Messiah, they said,
He had healed people, even raised from the dead.
The first hope stung our hearts, The fresh life filled our souls,
A chance at new life freshened us, Finally our hearts were full.
We began our lengthy journey, 3 days from where we stood,
We wore down our leprous feet, And our path filled with blood.
We kept looking forward to the hope that Christ did give
We knew that if we followed him, we would be able to live!
When we reached his healing touch, Our feet bleeding and covered in dust,
We stood afar off and called out, "O Master, Have mercy on us!"
He didn't give us the answer we sought, He told us another way,
He told us though our journey was frought, we had to travel another day.
Show ourselves unto the priests he said, the very ones who had left us for dead.
Despair taking us, we saddenly trudged, toward the men who of us had judged.
As we started the journey, and rebandaged our feet,
We trampled along, and we kept on the street,
We felt the pain in our feet go away.
As we examined ourselves, wondering why,
we saw that our feet no longer were gray.
The wounds had healed, a miracle seen,
And the others ran off, they were finally clean!
Grateful more than words could say,
I turned back, along the blood stained way.
I walked 'til I found the Master there,
I glorified God, and said a prayer.
I knelt down at the Master's feet,
The joy was sweet, so sweet.
Lovingly he bent, and took me into his warmth,
And told me he had been with me through all of my storms.
But concerned he asked me were there not 10?
Why did they not come back again?
Other stories we all could share,
Are the miracles in our lives, how He truly cares.
But, do we the recievers sometimes forget,
To give our God thanks, Have you done it yet?Kneel down tonight, give a word of prayer,
Thanking our God for all that is there.
If you go to him, and are grateful to him.
I know that your heart too will swim.
As he takes you in his arms, and lets you know,
How much he loves you, and wants you to grow.
That is why he doesn't step-in in your storms,
But he is there to help us, and keep us warm.
I love my Savior, I owe Him my life.
There is nothing greater than his suffering and strife.
He died for us, He gave up his all,
We need to be greater, we need to stand tall.
We need to be ready to fight that great fight,
And conquer the evil, and do what is right!
Go forth my brethren (and sisters), SHINE THE LIGHT!
1 comment:
I loved this!
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