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By Peter O
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"'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.'
I will most gladly boast of my weaknesses, in order that the power of
Christ will dwell in me."


Your Voice of love,
The Bell-Ringer
Leading me from my soul's canyons.

Your unfailing Labor
Toiling me to You;
Your Plough-Horse
Plowing through the globe
Of my needs.

The Heart and Soul
Of the Lamb's Sacrifice;
The Life from the Deathless Death
Of His Rising.

Without this grace,
I am cold,
I am flawed, frail and feeble.

This anemia
Rallies the Healer in Jesus --
His Blood joins my blood;
His Spirit, my spirit;
His Power, my power.

I am a mountain!

Isn't this reason
To glory, to boast?
My flaws join Jesus to me.

All praise to You, Father.

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Submitted: Sunday, July 28, 2013

Last Updated: Sunday, July 28, 2013

About the Poet
I am 79 years of age. For the past nine years I have been retired, after forty years, from the field of alcoholism and drug abuse in New York City. I am married and we have two grown sons and two grand-sons. My life changed through a grace-experience in 1967. Writing Christian prayers is a particular interest of mine. This came about by a growing awareness of the spiritual in recovery from addictions. I choose, intellectually and emotionally, to believe the Triune God of the Sared Scriptures as my Healer.

Other Poems by Peter O

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