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 Spirit’s balm,
you nurse me back to sound wholeness in you,
restoring my vitality
and giving new exercise to my so-long-crippled love.
Eternity’s Bright Vision
And he was transfigured before them,
and his face shone like the sun,
and his garments became white as light.
My frail and fragile frame cannot contain you yet, O Lord.
Seeing but your shadow takes away my breath
and a glimpse of your splendor overwhelms me,
your burning beauty engulfing me like fire.
More of you I cannot bear to see,
though my heart longs for that day
when I shall gaze upon you face to face.
And so I ask you:
Prepare me for eternity’s bright vision.
Purify my eyes
that I might behold your unveiled glory.
Cleanse me of my sin
that I might stand upon your holy mountain.
And fortify my soul
that I might endure the full force of your radiance
and wholly satisfy the claims you make on me.
Lord, I Am Not Worthy
Lord, I am not worthy.
With the startling humility
of one who knows himself in truth
and with faith so bold and sure that you marveled,
the centurion won your favor, Lord,
(and your praise as well).
I too have found grace
(and the largesse of your favor)
as often as I’ve followed suit
and made his plea my own:
Lord, I am not worthy.
Now I am wholly in debt to you,
for there is no just nor fair return
that I can make, O Lord,
for all your kindnesses to me:
not for the abundant mercies tender and severe
you’ve shown to me,
nor for pardon granted me
(that plenteous redemption releasing me from all my sin),
nor for provision
you so wisely weigh and measure to my need.
Lord, I am not worthy.
Unequal is the gift I bring to you
for all these gifts you’ve given me,
and yet I offer all I have:
my gratitude and gladness,
the tribute of a humbled heart.
Lord, I am not worthy.
A Spiritual Journey of Poems for Lent copyright © 2006 by Jeanne Kun
Top image credit: Woman walking towards a shining white cross, illustration © by Kevin Carden, from ChristianPhotoshops.com. Used with permission.