The Pain
If he could be there on the wretched nights
When the Pain stabbed her, first in the flesh, then in the heart,
Intensely rending the very muscles from her bones.
If he could be there to guard and watch with her
To see the campfires of the Pain and his army coming, coming, in the
distance
And then go out to fight them, bind them, and cast them out,
While she sought safety inside his tent, under the lamplight,
On her knees, praying, praying, until dawn,
Until the first splendorous rays of the sun broke over the horizon,
Casting every remaining shadow far away.
Then returning and pulling back the canvas door,
He would draw her out into the light and be her healer,
To mend the damage done in the night,
A hand here, a shoulder there, a foot, a knee, an ankle,
To fuse them back together again - the disjointed parts -
And restore her beauty and dignity with his affection.
Behold, a new creation!
If he could be there.
If he could be there.
“Oppose, Lord, those who oppose
me; war upon those who make war upon me. Take up the shield and buckler; rise
up in my defense. Brandish lance and battle-ax against my pursuers. Say to my
heart, ‘I am your salvation.'” Psalm 35: 1-3
Beautiful post! Thank you for sharing it! Marie
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