4th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 5:21-43

My heart is beating so fast
Pounding at the walls of my chest
As my mouth goes dry
I still remember sitting there
Across the polished
--but professionally messy desk
of one involved
--in the human struggle
--for life
I knew before it was spoken
Somehow I knew
But with the last thread of hope
I wanted to hear
--what
the medical profession
in all of its high tech helplessness
had to say
and as the words came
I shuddered stoically
With reality
The reality of what I already knew
The room spun that day
In thoughts of what if
And why me
And I was angry
At everyone who walked with a smile
And the God who created them
I screamed
screamed and cried
For days
Until brokenness overcame me
I lay in restless sleep
Dreaming
Of what could have been
I screamed and begged at God
In Prayer
Hoping beyond hope
That the stories I had heard
--somewhere
were true
and as others had been cured so might I
but I knew
somehow I knew with same depth
as I knew
--before I was told of this invasion
into my body and soul
that his would not be for me
restlessly
--night after night I tossed
in almost sleep
dreams tearing at my every fear

one night
walking through a crowd of people
who excitedly stood there
backdrops
in my nightly excursion into hell
I saw Him
Looking very much like no in particular
But I as drawn onward
Feeling again
--a flutter of excitement
as I fought my way through that crowd
all focused on Him
falling as I was almost there
managing somehow
--only to touch
--a thread hanging there
--lifeless
as I drifted back
from dreamland
to sleep deep and restful
now undisturbed
by the reality of my illness
I awoke
To my Lord standing there
In Glory
And taking me by the hand
This Prince of Peace
Leading me
To a new world filled with Glory