I Am His

Martha L Shaw - Poet, Writer, Author, Artist

crossb

The tough wooden cross in my hand was given to me by a man I’d never met before that one day  when by chance or design our paths crossed and we prayed together then he shared testimony with me.  As my wounded spirit soared I shared mine with him as well.  Time and other responsibility flew as we were drawn together and when we parted he gave me a small wooden cross carved by hand from a bit of storm severed cypress and by a man I will never know.

This morning when the crisis of the moment which kept me from sleep last night found a way to steal my joy of the new morning, I retreated to my quiet place and gripped this cross in my tremor ravaged left hand.  I could not think or pray but only rest in my quiet place and grip it.  I came to feel the love…

View original post 109 more words

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s