A Poem: “The Invalid Person”


I sit here an invalid person, inconsequent; a spare.
I’m sick and malfunctioning, in some ways in disrepair!

The kind man who loves me—none other can compare— 
Is lifting the heavy loads, and protecting me from stairs.

I don’t much like this sickness; for this disease I do not care,
But, my heart is full of thanks for my Saxophone Play’r.

He brings me smiles and covers me in prayer;
For an invalid person, this grace and mercy is quite rare.

Though weary and sick, with ill burdens to bear,
I lift my prayers, too; Fear and Doubt I will forswear.

For, in truth, I know these are but light afflictions to prepare,
When Heavenward we sail to meet our Savior in the air. 

Hard as things sometimes seem, that glad day will be fair,
Today’s suffering forgotten, for no tears will be found there.

That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our inner strength in the Lord is growing every day.  These troubles and sufferings of ours are, after all, quite small and won’t last very long. Yet this short time of distress will result in God’s richest blessing upon us forever and ever! So we do not look at what we can see right now, the troubles all around us, but we look forward to the joys in heaven which we have not yet seen. The troubles will soon be over, but the joys to come will last forever.” 2 Corinthians 4:6-18, (TLB)

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