Swaddling
bands, lovingly wrapped,
Protected
tiny feet
From
the cold and from jagged straw.
Damp
from Jordan's water
His
feet carried Him to the wilderness,
To
the brash abrasion of sand.
He
who could move in an instant
From
Judea to Galilee
Traversed
Samaria on foot.
So
the women, loving their Master,
Bathed
His feet in these ointments
Myrrh,
nard and tears.
Why
then did men drive nails
Into
these holy feet?
Living
again He could say,
As
evidence of His life,
"Behold
My hands and My feet".
He
sits at God's right hand
Till
His enemies shall be made
The
footstool of His feet.
Dear Lord Jesus, You are our all in all..
ReplyDeleteAnd to the writer of this poem...David...your name is right, Beloved son, keep writing and showing the love of the Lord, through your tender heart. Hugs Crystal Mary from Oz.
I want to see the nail-pierced arms and feet when we get to heaven. I want to touch them, then fall before Him always in humble adoration.
ReplyDelete