It hurt me fifteen years
And I thought that it would
Continue to torment my life,
And cripple me for good.
Oh, how I hoped the medicine
Would gently ease the pain;
But doctors told me not to hope
Too hard, lest it remain.
Each morning, I would fear the sun
Which called me from my bed.
I wanted to stay safe and still,
And nurse my pain instead.
I nursed the curse of memories
Of aching wasted days,
And thought that there was naught on earth
To cause me joy or praise.
From time to time, some friend would come,
And urge me to take heart;
As if by some strange strength of mind,
My symptoms would depart.
But nothing changed, and each new day,
My heart sank deeper still.
Experience and doubts and fears
Had robbed all strength of will.
Then one spring day, my mail contained
A letter from a friend,
Which praised a risen, healing Christ
Through whom my grief would end.
I read with hunger every page,
And scriptures she revealed
About the Lamb of Calvary,
‘By whose stripes we were healed’!
Could this be true, such power still
A witness to his love?
Though Christ returned so long ago
To streets of gold above?
A seed of faith had found my heart,
As I craved more to hear
How perfect love received from Christ
Could always cast out fear.
And fear was where my problem lay,
As time and time again,
I had the sad experience
Of fear preceding pain.
The Truth grew stronger than my hurts.
The Devil was my foe;
The source of my infirmity
Which doctors did not know.
And Christ had died to liberate
My spirit and my frame.
How could I slight the precious gift
Of healing in his name?
So by the power of God’s own Word,
Replacing faith for fear,
I grasped the passing robe of Christ
And drew his virtue near.
I set the Bible by my bed
And went to sleep assured…
The sunlight kissed my pillowed head,
To find me strong and cured!