Hebrew poetry is going to be the death of me. Here’s my attempt for this past week’s assignment.
Oh God, my God, you are the Most Great Physician.
My Lord, by your Word, all illness can be healed.
Lord, my body has aged before its time, my soul is weary.
My spirit is drained; Lord, my bones feel as dry as the dust.
Crippled and bent, my fingers contort into shapes you did not design.
Weak and without strength, my hands struggle to lift so much as a cup.
Arms that carried babies now move sluggishly to obey my thoughts;
Feet that once danced, shuffle painfully, step by agonizing step.
My mind, once sharp and clever, is dulled through pain and fear:
I wade through dense fog to understand.
God, I know that all suffering has a purpose,
That my torment is but tool for a lesson I have not yet grasped.
And sometimes subtle instructions are beyond my meager understanding.
I know that you would not leave me like a branch struck with lightning,
Like a tree, you have always nourished my growth.
Lord, I would ask that you heal my body, so that I may serve you.
Allow me to fall upon my knees in prayer, whole once again.
Do not tolerate my sufferings as an excuse for neglecting you.
Cause the pain to fall away that I may think and worship you more clearly.
Make me a useful servant to you once more, oh God.
Grant that I may serve your creation in fullness, oh my Lord.
God, I am grateful for your blessings, for they have been many.
As the Divine Healer , you have restored the sick and suffering.
Your rewards are renowned; your judgment is righteous.
You hear all prayers; and you answer me as you will.
I will praise your great Name always, oh Lord,
For you are my God, and my trust is in you.