Every gift…

by J. Thomas

Every gift that comes from you is like the grace

from heaven’s door, embracing me and chas-

ing me; my heart delights in you. Restored

is all that once was. Lost I am without

your sweet and lovely face adoring Him.

It is more than I deserve and more than I can take, 

yet my heart aches without you, imploring heaven’s gate

to let me hear you breathing, easing all

that can’t be lift. You are the gift, you are

the grace. My one true love whom I adore.

I adore the way you wipe your feet before

we go to bed. You make me laugh

every time you dance and my soul feels

cherished every time you sing. Did you know

every thing you do makes my life feel grand and

worth living? But your heart is grieved and worn

from living. How could I let it happen?

I love you, Jane, and I would die for you,

yet still these pains remain.

I ask for Him to touch your wounded heart.

Your wounded heart with many blows, but still

so patient will you be with me, and hon-

oring the path you chose enduring pain

as illness rose. By step by step we build

again as faith surrounds us both. I see

a heart, a strength that will not fail. I hear

a voice, a hope that will prevail.

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