WHO TOLD YOU?

They told me I was sick, and lame, and blind,
Crushed with the woes of earth and anxious fears;
They gave no comfort, neither hope nor aid,
These friends and loved ones, for they did not see
The great Physician whom I dimly glimpsed
Beyond the shadow, waiting patiently.
And in the darkest hour of my despair
I cried aloud to Him, "0 Father, help!"
And lo! beyond the reach of mortal law
And human knowledge all inadequate,
I heard a sound of voices, strong and clear,
Singing in sweet accord a wondrous song:
"Who told you you were sick, and poor, and blind?
Can vain decree of mortal sense impair
'The likeness of the glory of the Lord,'
Which is yourself, God's nature manifest?
Can mortals make His image otherwise
Than radiant, flawless, like Himself, divine?"
And still the voices sang in unison,
Persisting in their basic questioning:
"Do you not know you are the evidence
Of all that He created 'very good'?
That all the strident noises of the world,
Of discord, ill, and death, and poverty,
Are but illusive dreams, unknown to God,
Without foundation or intelligence?"
And suddenly I saw the blessed Christ,
True selfhood bathed in glorious majesty;
God and man, one, inseparable!
And with this vision of reality
I rose, and ran, and laughed in ecstasy,
Shouting aloud my joy, for I was free!