Grace for Fools


English: Hay meadow near Dolanog Freshly mowed...

English: Hay meadow near Dolanog Freshly mowed hay meadow seen in early evening light, seen from the B4382. Dolwar Hall farm SJ0714 can be seen in the middle distance. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In the country side I walked; timid through the night, but stronger in the dawn.

No fear at horror’s sounds; screeching through the air, or growling in the grass.

Bolder steps turned to confident strides; a willingness to leap within these tired bones.

Then a city appeared over the crest of a hill.

 

Through its gates I walked; upright back and confidence from the respite from war.

No one checked for weapons; that invisible proof of salvation hidden in my heart.

How should they suspect or investigate; no one here carries the mark I bear.

Past all stores and temptations I moved.

 

Then, from nowhere, a stabbing; my back was turned and I did not perceive attack.

My weakness exposed; vulnerable was I and did not prepare, distracted by the wares.

Sinking deep the wound was great; a sin appeared and the blood of man soaked my cloak.

I staggered through the alley.

 

Knowing nothing but the Gospel; my knees pounded the dust with sudden thrust.

A crying out to the One Who Is; a healing balm, nursing hands.

Even while the blood still flowed; legs found strength, beginning to run.

The exit gate in view came quickly.

 

Fools will step with careless stride;  the way of simple man open to attack.

Less is the weakness than the power of hope; that marvelous Grace He wields so well.

The night’s embrace outside the gate; humiliation abounds while healing starts.

I stagger through the field once again.

 

By His Grace!

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