MY STROKE.
As You know, Lord, I have just had a stroke and, as a result, I find myself in a ghastly mess,
With legs like spaghetti, and all my abilities cancelled in a flash.
There is little point in crying out to the heavens asking why this has happened,
For the only picture that we humans have of You is a man dying on a cross for the sins of the world.
In fact, the moment when You did Your greatest work for this weary world was when You could not move at all.
So grant, Lord, that in some small way I may be able to share some of Your redemptive suffering,
And do it for Your glory, sharing this divine activity with You,
For this is part of Your creative work, and all creative work is painful, Lord,
Whether it is the writing of a poem, or the birth of a puppy.
So, as I look down seemingly endless hospital corridors so neat, so sterile, searching for hope,
Give me the quality of faith that moves mountains and digs a man out of the chasms of despair (Ian Shevill).