From time to time, I’ll share some of my old poetry. For starters, here’s one I wrote while I was struggling with depression.
I lay here, on my face, in this deep dark place.
They whisper. The voices all around me,
In my head.
“Worthless.” “Hopeless!” “Miserable and weak.”
My head sinks lower.
The ground is covered by the dew of my tears.
Darkness. The menacing blackness threatens to crush me in this, the night of my despair.
In the twilight, I feel a hand of mercy comfort and uplift.
I raise my eyes– I see the blood-stained hands.
Immanuel. God with us. God with me.
He has been in the dark lonely pit before,
And He is lifting my head– showing me the way out.
July 10, 2008