A Counselor Familiar with Dust
You didn’t impatiently check your watch like
you had someplace more important to be.
A God who listens.
You didn’t stare down my vulnerability
in disgust as I poured out my broken heart.
You grabbed a tissue and sobbed with me.
A God who cries.
Your counsel didn’t come down from a distant marble throne.
You stepped into the crowd, looking for me.
A God who draws near.
ME—A single lost sheep.
You took my hand
into your callused carpenter’s hand
and walked the journey of hope with me.
A God who touches humanity.
Karisa, what an absolutely beautiful picture of God you painted in this poetry! His faithfulness continues to bless and amaze me.
Thank you Jeannie!
An encouraging visual of our great Counselor and physician. Thank you, as always, Karisa.
Thank you Kathy!