I remember him, my newborn babe,
So small, so untouched by the world.
The first fall that broke skin, that drew blood,
The pain shot through my soul!
‘Twas the first blemish dealt him, no longer was he
so perfectly untouched by the world.
At a birthday party with all of his friends
Cheering him on at the arcade,
The obscenity blurted from his very own tongue;
The pain shot through me again.
This blemish, Lord, was harder to mend,
He had been thus touched by the world.
The agonizing, glorious teenage years,
Days of wonder and insatiable longings.
The blemishes dealt to him now I fear
Are more painful and still shared between us.
But try as I might, to protect him form this,
I can’t keep him untouched by the world.
The babe with the bruise, the youthful transgression,
The teen with his worldly desires…
Dear Lord thou hast blessed him time and again
With thy loving healing powers.
It’s my prayer that he will again turn to Thee
To become perfectly untouched by the world.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.06 seconds at 4:57pm on Dec 26, 2024 via server WEBX1.