by Kathleen Angell
1/11/2007 / Poetry
Your words of misunderstanding
blast upon my soul
like icy cold wind chilling
me to the core of my bone.
Rather than harm,
held by His hands,
the sharp coldness blasts
turning my skin into an eruption,
a jewel, of Gods Love.
And onto you an Oil most precious,
most healing Divine-
let this warm wind be sent back to you,
melting the icy cold of misunderstanding.
Let this, Love, heal your soul,
all sores becoming perfume in God's hands.
My name is Kathleen Angell.
My life was dramatically changed when the Lord made Himself real to me.
My website is www.thecranberryhouse.org
We have a weekly food outreach to Kenya, to feed children and those in need.
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