Eighteen long years
I had carried that burden,
So I have good reason to remember
That particular sabbath day.
I suppose that I had lived so long
With my infirmity
That I wore it as a habit.
Somehow I managed to eke out an existence.
One day was like another—but that day was different.
His earnest eyes took in
Each member of that congregation
Until at last his gaze rested on me.
He called me to him
And said so very gently:
"Thou art loosed from thine infirmity."
How can I find the words to tell what happened?
Past, future—all were met
In one unending present,
As old ways yielded to the power
That lifted mind and body into light.
It's not so much that I am straight again,
But now each day I wake anew
To feel afresh the Love that loosed me;
Each day I rise again through Love,
Redeemed and free,
Upright and strong to glorify my God.
