My Cheeks Are Wet With Joy


 Alone.
I lie here in my room.
A month. Now a year.
How long, O Lord?
Abandoned as one once loved.
Separated by circumstances.
Isolated and forgotten.
A tear tendrils down my cheek.
I hear one say.
“I’d be crazy.”
I reply.
“Welcome to my world.”
Satan hears my weakness.
And takes just that moment.
To whisper in my ear.
“God doesn’t care.”
In my tears, God reminds me.
Satan can’t read my thoughts.
He only hears my voice.
I lift it up to God.
My worship of God reviles him.
I bind and cast him out.
He has no authority.
I am a child of God.
 I thank Jesus for his sacrifice.
His cleansing healing blood.
And for this life he gave me.
Days of bad and good.
Even for this day.
Overwhelmed by loneliness.
I praise his holy name.
My cheeks are wet with joy.
By Berta Dickerson

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