A VISION: SPIRITUAL CATARACTS
Has the good news now become old news to me?
Have my eyes become blind so that I canít see?
Are cataracts veils, to keep me in jail;
So my purpose and destiny flee?
I still can make out the size of the bars;
Theyíre strong and set firmly in place;
Outside the door, a jailer with keys;
A cynical smile on his face;
A lawyer comes in and tells me my options;
None of which sound good to me;
Before he leaves, he suggests very strongly:
My best bet is surgery.
Iím so disappointed, Lord; How did this happen?
This is not what I thought that You said;
It seems age prevailed, even over Your word;
And I am alone, as if dead.
Then, the door flew open and in came this Man;
Over backwards went jailer and chair;
He looked straight at me, with His piercing eyes;
Almost like a laser stare.
He said, See with My eyes; And hear with My ears;
Stop living your life in the past;
Leave that life here, in this jail of decay;
And Weíll walk in a new life that lasts.
He reached out His hand and my vision cleared;
His eyes have now become mine;
We laughed and We talked and, as I glanced back,
The jail was left far behind;
Iím thinking, the greatest familiar spirit;
Is the one that hopes I wonít see,
The future this wonderful Man and I
agreed is our destiny.
Each day, as we walk, Iím sure we will talk;
About purpose; And adventures Weíll see;
Because now, itís not me thatís walking alone:
IíM VALUED; IíM PAID FOR; IíM FREE!!!