TITLE: The Gift of Pain By James Wood 03/28/07 |
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With opened eyes, I wake to know
The fallen snow and evergreen
of Christmas tree, on blessed morn
when He was born, and God was seen
So many gifts, none too immense
of frankincense, or gold or myrrh
What is this gift, I see beneath
the holly wreath? I can't be sure
A box with ribbons they adorn
In biting thorn, to give the child
I loose my seat, and bar the way
My hand to stay, my fury wild
And they respond, with patient calm
There is no balm for cancer's cure
The chemotherapy is right
This painful fight, he must endure
So many nights, I watched him die
And cursed the sky, and Him insane
I bitter mouthed, and damned His choice
With heart and voice, the gift of pain
And still the Christmas snow would fall
And through it all, my son believed
He praised the Lord, I knew not why
I watched him die, and only grieved
But with last breath, a sudden hiss
He whispered this; "Christ is the Lord"
And gave his life, his body still
A deadly chill, and pierce of sword
I don't recall those after days,
And through that haze I tried to lean
On comfort, with those words in mind
I tried to find what they could mean
And for the first, I read the book
With open look, I saw it show
On Cavalry, the Son of God
On which I trod, but did not know
This man who taught and tried to save
His life he gave upon the cross
And so distraught, God turned his head
To see him dead, and feel his loss
I cried aloud, for I did know
The grief of God, but also now
The gift of pain, that both our sons
Gave unto us, to show us how
With love and pain the wine is pressed
To see us dressed for wedding day
Oh, lift our veil with kiss of Grace,
wipe from our face all tears away
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