Poem: The Song Of A Reluctant Healer

 

 

I asked the ultimate question

Within the depths of my being.

Hoping to find readymade answers…

To quell my incessant probing.

For years, I seek the world…

For remnants of love and fame.

Yet the truth of the matter is…

I have only begun to know its name.

Today I stand before you, my friend.

A changed woman not by her might,

Transformed by the faith and love

Of a Saviour who refused to fight.

Who am I to you, my Lord?

That you would want from me…

I have pittance to offer you.

Haven’t I paid the fee?

I crumble silently under the weight

Of invisible tears and broken parts.

Where do I begin… how do I start?

To heal these once shattered hearts…

Once again I have been stumped 

By frail human limitations.

Humbly and reverently I wait…

For subtle divine intercessions.

(written by momoko69, 28/11/2001)

For years after being burnt out at church, I refuse to accept my true calling to be God's healing hands. To reach out to his people meant that I have to be less of Anne and more of Christ. I didn’t want to give… I felt spent and all used up. Most of all, I didn’t think I was good enough to be made an instrument of God. Unworthy and unappreciated… almost sucked dry whenever I give. So I thought this was a good thing… self preservation! But little did I realise I'd missed the point completely. It is to lean on the knowledge and strength of our Lord. It is to depend wholly unto Him who gives us wisdom and understanding to bring peace and healing to people who have yet to know him. Thank God, for the Helper who gives insights into my feeble mind.