Sometimes we are fooled to believe we are healed,
Perhaps by momentary reliefs or distractions.
But when the right stimulation comes along,
Stirring up a chain of suppressed past
You realize the pain has only gotten worse
And that the only way to remove the pain
Is to treat it from the roots.
Sometimes it may mean eliminating its existence.
Other times, it means to uproot the old to replant the new -
For an unhealthy origin cannot produce anything healthy.
At rare times, you find that no matter what you do
The wound stays put, infesting your whole heart
Eating you slowly alive.
It's at these times I find myself helpless.
Unable to stand on my feet, I kneel on my knees.
I'm painfully humbled at my own limitations,
The fact that I can't save myself.
Why, I'm glad my God has a fascination with dirt.
With people who can't help themselves.
Or else this blog would not stand -
There would be no beauty in ashes.
There would be no beauty in my life.
And as I wait for this healing
I'm led to quiet waters
Where he restores my soul.
Until this heart is whole again.
