February 2008 - Vol. 16

A Spiritual Journey of Poems for Lent
by Jeanne Kun

Jesus laid his hands on the sick

With Healing in His Hands

He laid his hands on every one of them and healed them.

Search me through and through, O Lord.
Explore my sin-bruised being
and bind up my injuries
(whether gained through fault or folly).

As I surrender to your skilled hands and healing touch,
your fingers strip away my protections and self-illusions,
probing the wounds of my heart,
the raw sores of my soul,
my aching disappointments and mutilated hopes.
And then with patient care and Spiritís balm,
you nurse me back to sound wholeness in you,
restoring my vitality
and giving new exercise to my so-long-crippled love.

Copyright (c) 2006 by Jeanne Kun

> next poem: Eternity's Bright Vision

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