A spiritual bastard just fuel for the flame
A menu of vices and an armour of shame
But a voice in the night so searching and deep
Performed a prognosis while I did sleep
Is it a cancer I reasoned that is causing this woe?
Asked the swine of the mire and not a lamb of the fold
Nay was the answer, a just verdict was sent
Abominable and rotten, torn and rent
Is there a cure for this malignity I face?
The world has placeboes, but the Lord gives grace
Seek the Physician though not of this sphere
Higher than heaven, yet nigh and so near
The prescription of balm, the Balm of All Ages
Was written in blood in God's holy pages
The armour of shame was washed from my soul
A robe of redemption and I was made whole
The newness of life, like the newness of spring
Comes from the Dayspring of all ages, the King of all Kings
The abyss is behind the Great City I see
Foursquare and eternal paid for and free
This poem has been put
together from Sandra's testimony, which will be posted soon
Jer 8:22 [Is there] no balm in Gilead; [is there] no physician there? why
then is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered?
Matthew 9:12-13 But when
Jesus heard that, he said unto them, They that be whole need not a
physician, but they that are sick. But go ye and learn what that meaneth, I
will have mercy, and not sacrifice: for I am not come to call the righteous,
but sinners to repentance.
10:9 I am the door: by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall
go in and out, and find pasture.