Quinton Scott

The Struggle

It was a cold winter's morning, when I awoke to a body terribly ill.
Although in pain and seeking a doctor's care, my healing was the Lord's will.

I prayed and cried, occupying my thoughts with much dread and many tears.
I looked for answers, by examining my faults, and found more questions and
more fears.

I grappled with the recognition of my lot, my life and my skin.
I tried to make sense of the changes in attitude of my closest and dearest
friends.

I struggled with common words like peace, love and happiness.
I complicated their meaning with conditions of turmoil, hatred and sadness.

Then, I turned it all over to Jesus; my sinful life, my guilt and my shame.
He said, 'It is alright. You are my child. My everlasting love remains
the same! '

No more struggle. Praise His Holy Name!

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, December 23, 2006
Poem Edited: Tuesday, December 14, 2010

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