'On A Hill Of Hurt' Poem by Linda Winchell

I once lived on a hill of hurt
Always sitting on its peak alone.
But then one day a man did appear
Clothed in white, while setting upon a golden throne.

He shared with me His story
Of His Father in Heaven and all His Glory.
Of a place where all pain and sorrow end
And everyone there is each others best of friend.

He then handed me a shovel
To scoop, if only one scoopful at a time.
All the hurt that I’ve accumulated
I had gathered upon this hill of mine.

Then with His mighty hands
He began to pull away.
All the hurt and all my sorrows
That I and others seem to have made.

Filled now with joy and deepest of love divine
All of which Jesus Christ gave to man
So Heaven one day would be mine.

No longer to sit atop a Hill of hurt
Now looking back, was really nothing more
Than a pile of my, accumulated un-Godly dirt.