PAIN
Pain knocked upon my door
I did not ask it to come in
Yet suddenly it pushed its way
An uninvited guest within.

I sought for comfort in distress
A balm to ease the ache and pain
But cries for mercy and relief
Were unattended and in vain.

So why this cross of heavy weight
Be given me so weak and frail?
Must this be carried to my grave
Without some purpose to avail?

Twas then a vision came to light
A Man of Sorrows crushed by blows
Was seen with nails and blood-stained brow
So through His stripes real healing flows.

God's every purpose will prevail
His nail-pierced hands reach from above
And those who seek His healing touch
Will find through you His grace and love.
--B. Pent