Riding On Heaven's Breeze Poem by Michael P. Johnson

Lord, here I am with no control
Infirm within this bed
Wrapped in The One who saved my soul
Who raised my shameful head


You gave the doctors knowledge here
Nurses, such love and care
Feeling Your presence ever near
With all You have to share


Vast technology’s are all round
Warring against the pain
Pumping in treasures so profound
Like drops of silver rain


Yet though I fail to understand
The reason this should be
I know my days are in Your hand
And You could rescue me


My arms and legs I cannot move
I breathe but through machines
But still through me I hope You’ll prove
What true salvation means


Lord guide these tools in whom I trust
These servants in Your hand
Make all my ailments turn to dust
Whilst faith takes up it’s stand


You made me flesh and spirit too
You’ve blessed my aching soul
All that I am is asking You
Please make Your servant whole


Whatever yet life’s storms may bring
Malady or disease
My praise will rise to You my King
Riding on Heaven’s Breeze