Walking down a
gravel road,
I met a man who had
mirrors in His eyes and words to
explain just what it was I saw in
there.
And He had gifts in His
hands.
He offered me sight.
He
offered me bread.
He offered me
water.
He offered me
water.
Thankful, I gladly
indulged without a second thought
as to who He rally was.
His rough
hands and soft eyes,
they felt
like home - a home I hadn't known
in years.
And then I saw Him
dead, hung up with nails for
things I had done.
Petrified, I
stood, eyes closed, humbled to the
point of tears.
It will be
alright. He will walk again.
And
this time I will be there with
Him, ever thankful.
Zeige deinen Freunden, dass dir The Author von Besieged gefällt:
Kommentare