Invisible Disease

Invisible Disease

An invisible disease has stricken me

An invisible disease is all I see ...

Some days 

Not only cannot they see

This disease that has stricken me

But they cannot perceive, understand or believe

For experience seems to be the only way

That others can fully say

The oft miss said  “I understand”

Not even half the man I used to be

I work harder , push further , endure longer…

Just to seem… below average

Sometimes I cannot begin to understand the misunderstanding

Of the ailments that have been allowed my way

The locust that eats my day

Yet I am no worse off,  or worse , than any other man

Despite the voices that say I am

I am not a victim

I am, in fact,  a victor… through Him

I am more than a conquerer in my weakness

Than Caesar or Alexander in their greatness

Because of Him

And the blessings I see when I have clarity

Well, That is far more than enough for me

Like Jean Valjean

I have experienced grace

It invaded me

It took my place

For all Eternity – Blessed be

But also day by day – how sweet

Grasping for Expression

Not sure that this falls into any official category of writing... perhaps a song or spoken word. At any rate I didn't want to change it from the way it is.

You may recognize the last portion from Counting Crow's "Anna Begins"

Grasping For Expression

I remember filling up and falling down to my knees

When Your love anew came over me

Gasping for air and grasping for expression

Long after I was born again

Desperate, frustrated and trying to earn it

Inadvertently, I almost spurned it

Till Your love cascaded over me

And finally…through me

Like bathing in a lightfall

Step down from golden throne through stars?

To take on flesh and pain .. be marred?

To feel the sting of broken nature

I cannot but worship this humble posture

Not just forgive but love your enemies?

Pray for the religious, rebellious murderer?

Touch the leper, comfort the prostitute

And even forgive the one who prostituted her?

You would heal  Malchus’ ear

So that he could hear

You say, “Permit even this”

How deep, how wide, how long, how high

Is this love?  Four dimensions –

A hint,  perhaps,  that it is beyond comprehension

And beyond condition – but not beyond the malnutrition

Of our starved and thirsty heart.

It takes both a father and a mother’s heart

To fully express how kind “Thou art”

To take back a wayward child

Though proud, rebellious  and wild

Not even a lecture to hear?

No.

Just an embrace… .and a tear.

What love is this?

This time when kindness falls like rain

It washes me away.

And He begins to change my mind.

His kindness bangs a gong,

 Its moving me along

And Oh Lord,

I’m so ready for this sort of thing