Finally, that vicious day was over
          At last, my labor was through.
          Before I could rest my troubled head
          Slowly I knelt calling to you.

          Lord Jesus, I am...

          “Frustrated by my frailty
          Discouraged by my pride,
          Aware of my constant failure
           Desperate to you I cry."

          “Everything seems so fruitless
          No matter what I do,
          I cannot seem to overcome
          In my attempt to live for you.”

          Alone in the quiet darkness
          As I began to rise,
          Your words broke through to my broken heart,
           I lifted my tear stained eyes.

          “My child I see your struggle
          And I know your deepest pain.
          Take a lesson from the artist
          And see my love blossom again."

          No longer was I in darkness
          And loneliness had fled,
          I now stood in your brilliance
          Transformed by what you said.

          Opening like a curtain
          These rays gave way to a stage,
          On which, bearing easel, brush and canvas
          Stood an artist without age.

          I watched as His bare canvas
          Took color with each stroke of His hand,
          Noticing the gloomy shades applied
          Not following any sure plan.

          This art revealed my state of mind
          All scattered, dark and dreary,
          No shape or form could I find
          Only voids of uncertainty.

            The look upon this craftsman’s face
          The confidence He bore,
          Soothed my rather restless state
          And bid me look once more.

          From His eyes back to that canvas
          My sight was then renewed,
          For what was once a meaningless mess
          Became my life reviewed.

          Brilliance and splendor sprang forth
          Radiance and majesty cried,
          As if I had just been born
          I viewed now through Artists eyes.

          Oh the value of that work
          Increased with each slight stroke,
          Shadows did sunshine birth
          And gloom, joy now awoke.

          Purpose and hope brushed over me
          Questions and fear sped away,
          Realizing what my artist did see
          Refreshed this matting that day.

          Oh, I still have questions
          And life can wear me down,
          But my life is becoming a masterpiece
          Stroked by The Artist with The Crown.

~ Jack Lynn Eldridge ~

[ By: Jack Lynn Eldridge, Copyright © 2005 -- submitted by: Jack Eldridge ( ]


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