Upon my porch of misery
I lie and wait for death.
My cries for help escape me
With every wasted breath.
Those who hear my pain
Evade, avoid, and ignore.
I am too much trouble,
And they want my reward.
Upon the porch is a pool.
Angels are stirring the waters.
The first one to step in,
It will heal that son or daughter.
God sees them walk all over me.
He sees them pass me by.
He sees that I have given up,
And no longer even try.
Compassion brings Him to my side.
He asks if I want help.
I express my desire for healing,
But cannot carry myself.
He speaks His life into me,
And strengthens my soul.
Because He was willing,
I was made whole.

1.22.2022 Saturday
Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: John 5, the infirmed man of 38 years