Letter to You

 

Dear Heavenly Father,

This is how my sickness makes me feel:

Useless, spent, painful rusty, tired piece of nothing, empty, trash.

This is how Your Son makes me feel:

Backhoeing-fit to bury despair, full throttle, bulldozing praise to You

A-okay, can-do hope

Headed for New Jerusalem on a full-tank of Your Spirit

Re-fueled at the Cross

Road out of Egypt

Through this desert wilderness

Prayer-driven, Red Sea-partin’ song-singing,

Following the signs in Your Word

Telling me Your steadfast love will never fail

‘Cause look at me!

I’m not a piece of junk:

Not when I’m on the road

To You.


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Friday Fictioneers photo prompt. photo copyright Jean L. Hays. Word limit: 100. Word count: 100

6 thoughts on “Letter to You

  1. This is how my sickness makes me feel:
    Useless, spent, painful rusty, tired piece of nothing, empty, trash I think many people feel this way when they are ill and find solace wherever they can. Lovely prayer.

    Like

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