by Judy Lane-Boyer
I came to Him for healing From dark seedlings planted deep My soul was shattered, reeling with numbed feelings, sick with grief In dim regions of my heart In corners dark, wounds seeping Black roots splintered me apart In quiv’ring shards, all bleeding Not my fault—at least not all— But I heard His call and when I watched and heard, I gaped in awe What I saw made hope begin To wonder: could He help me? I had to see; I went then Frightened, trembling, to seek peace On my knees I came to Him My belief, yes, was small Yet was all He sought from me So with gentle hands he healed As I kneeled, then I was free To follow Him; thus, I saw All the awe from wretched crowds As He vanquished hunger, pain Demons’ claims and grim storm clouds Even better, He addressed Those who oppressed “the lawless” The masses, gleeful, watched Him chide Their leaders’ pride and smallness Did they really, in the end, Comprehend that He is more Than a gravy train or knight Who just fights to even scores? All those places dark within Smeared with sin, soaked through with shame Melt to light as His caress Clears the mess and sparks a flame Of release and liberty Delivery to sweet grace How much better than mere food Health improved, bullies abased? Nothing deep these people crave Yet He gave me something more Not materiality But my very soul restored Wanting more, I stay with Him On paths dim, I don’t despair; In pain, sickness, injury, My heart is free—I don’t care One day He asks quietly “Do you love Me?” “Yes, I do!” I need you to sacrifice Your desires, your will subdue As I grasp His clear-cut call I hit a wall. Startled, I gasp “Die to me? How obscene What’s that mean? I can’t grasp “What you want. Give in to them? Give up for him? Forgive her? But You said You’d make me free! I don’t see how that concurs” “Freedom is in Me, My child” His voice mild clarifies “Not what I give or how I heal Just to feel good’s not the prize “Will you turn away?” He asks I look back and see the throng Those I thought so shallow but It turns out that all along I was the same; my desire Was entirely for what I Could get from Him, not for Him So, repentant now I cry “Not my will, but Yours, my King I will cling always to You Even when the price I pay To obey is bowing to “Another’s whims, even harshness For in hardness You refine Who I am to be like You For the truth is, You resigned Your prestige and dignity All for me; You even died Gave up Your choice, Your control So my soul could have Life I’ll give anything You ask Though the task puts me in chains For you are my liberty Who You are is worth the pain
