Courage has a face

Like a girl,

Moving swiftly across a crowded room

To sit at the Master’s feet,

Eyes downcast so as not to meet

The glare of male eyes

Disapproving, cutting at her soul,

Or the voice of the older sister

Jarring, angry, cold,

Then raised in an agony of hope

That He would not be displeased

At her disgrace,

Not to be disappointed

This courage with a face 

 

 

Courage has a voice

Like a woman’s trembling reply,

“Who touched Me?’

“Lord,  it was I!”

Fear burning in every part

Dreading the hatred and the shame,

Then barely able to believe the love

Freely poured out, or the name:

“Daughter!”

Like liquid healing to a tortured heart

Lifting her head to meet for the first time

Those ancient Eyes

And to find them smiling

At this courage with a voice 

 

 

Courage is a song

Sung through tears, and sweat and blood

Etched on faces whose lines run deep

Shining from eyes who’ve seen too much

Hidden in hearts that hope in something,

No, Someone,

Who walks the path before them

Who reaches for them in the dark

Who whispers His Name

Over their pain

And plunges His Hand

Deep into aching souls

Bestowing that which only He can:

Courage to overcome

© Cheryl McGrath 2012