The Ember

I finished that poem I started the other night. Here it is:

The Ember

A tiny ember glowed in the dark.
It was hardly bright enough to notice,
But it made a tiny warm space in my heart.

Covered in ashes, slowly burning out,
There was no fuel to feed it.
I was slowly dying within and without.

There was a persistent knocking at my door.
Knock...knock...knock.
I couldn’t ignore it any more.

When I answered, I had an attitude.
“What do you want?” and slammed the door.
I really was quite rude.

He was a gentleman, and quietly replied
That He could help me if I would listen.
He was quite willing to be my guide.

I wasn’t about to toe His line.
I was supposed to be in charge!
Who could know better than me about my life?

Then, when my ember was almost dead,
When things that were bad went to worse,
I remembered what the gentleman had said.

I opened the door and asked Him in.
I asked what He could really do to help me.
He touched that ember, brought it to life again.

That ember began to glow,
The ashes began to fall,
And I began to hope.

He touched my heart.
He stopped the raw, bleeding wounds.
He gave me a fresh start.

What had been numb, I began to feel.
I couldn’t believe how many places I hurt
As I slowly began to heal.

Sometimes it’s hard to tell apart
Whether the problem is my body or my soul
As I deal with each issue of my heart.

As I am healed and becoming whole,
I’ll always have scars from the wounds
Because this is a lifelong process, you know.

Who was it? Who didn’t give up on me?
His name is Jesus, whom I love and trust.
He lit the fire that set me free.