Helper, Helper
My soul yearns
to see this thing done—
healing painted over
my friend’s story
in glorious color
She likes pink.
In despair I bow my head
touching the stone named
How can this be…
and hear Jesus whisper,
“It is not she who needs the miracle,
my child.”
Deep inside that web of heart and soul
where sustaining hope
and willed goodness try to seed
and flourish,
my seeds – often
are earthbound.
We need Jesus
who ever cultivates
the hope of eternity.
Eternity—
that country where ‘help’
is defined.
jfig 3/2020
Mark 6:53-56 When they had crossed over, they landed at Gennesaret and anchored there. As soon as they got out of the boat, people recognized Jesus. They ran throughout the whole region and carried the sick on mats to wherever the heard he was. And wherever he went – into villages, towns or countryside – they placed the sick in the marketplaces. They begged him to let them touch even the edge of his cloak, and all who touched it were healed.
“Mark 6:53 (NIV) – When they had crossed over.” Blue Letter Bible. Web. 8 Apr, 2020. <https://www.blueletterbible.org/niv/mar/6/53/p1/s_963053>.
At times, the weight of another’s pain, feels more than I can bear. This poem alludes to the positive motives in that desire – goodness, hope – but I have sometimes felt the need to see others well for reasons of fear, exhaustion, boredom, the need for reassurance that Jesus truly can heal, that there is hope. Mercifully, God never loses sight of where we are going on this journey called faith.
Ephesians 1:11-14; John 4:13,14; I Peter 1:3-5
Roasted Words 