Comforting words are called for today,
A mother was told of the death of a son;
Another learned cancer has come her way
Can I find words to comfort such ones;
Can I summon speech that soothes and heals
and bears away such gnawing pain;
‘Tis not my own words that my friends need,
But, those I can say in His Dear Name.
What a trust God has placed in us
That we not abuse His words,
But, use them with the utmost choice
To help and heal, not to hurt;
Some think they have done a righteous work
When oft’ they have only inflicted pain,
Thinking themselves champions with God’s Great Sword
They thrust and flay with words that maim.
But, when I think of Christ our Shepherd meek,
I think of One who sought the lambs;
I think Him loving and tender as with sheep
Who would never berate, bruise, or slam.
I see Him with loving arms outstretched
With words of comfort flowing out,
“Come to me that are weary, I’ll give you rest…”
That’s the kind of words I’m hunting now.
-Donald R. Sansbury, 2013