Child of the Promise
By C. Ann S.
A small broken
child no older than four
Lay in a heap on a cold dirty floor.
Fragments of hope-like the glass and the dishes
Broken and shattered like her heart full of wishes.
“I wish I could fly.” Moaned the small broken child.
“Then I could fly to this Voice deep inside.
His voice is so tender. His words touch me so softly.
His voice deep within is calling me…calling me.”
“Come to Me, child. I will not hurt you.
I love you my little one. I will never desert you.
I love you My child.”
…and it was then that she died.
Blood mingled with tears as she lay on the floor.
Her small crumpled body could not bear anymore.
With a last painful effort she had drawn her last breath.
It was there in that darkness that she slipped to her death.
Her body grew as cold as that cold dirty floor.
Her death went unnoticed for hours or more.
Nobody cared for that small broken child.
Except for the One of the voice deep inside.
Nobody knew as she took her last breath
Alone on the floor as she slipped to her death
That the hand of a Warrior, the hand of a King
Took her hand gently and she heard angels sing
Of His Glory, His Power, His Unfailing Love.
The Mercy and Grace of His Father above.
Nobody knew as He held her little hand
That His name was JESUS
Son of God
Son of man.
As Jesus held this child not more than four,
Her torn bloody clothes fell to the floor.
Shining upon her a miraculous thing
She was wearing new clothes for the daughter of a King!
“Jesus I cannot wear these!” the small child cried.
“They will say that I stole them. They will say that I lied
When they’re angry they hurt me, and I have no place to hide.”
“O My dear child, please understand
The gift I have given when you reached for My hand.
You are wearing new clothes for the daughter of a King
For you see, My little one, this is the gift that I bring.
When I held out My hand and said, ‘Come to Me’
You heard My voice, you listened, and by faith you believed.
I am the King of all that you see, of all that ever was,
And that ever will be.
I have redeemed you and called you by name.
Yesterday, today, and forever I am always the same.
The clothes you now wear no one can touch.
I love you My child, so very much.”
Jesus spoke very gently with His hand holding hers
And she felt His love cover her like a blanket of furs
Heavy and warm, wrapped snug and tight
She felt all of His Strength and His Power and His Might.
As she listened the burns, the bruises, and the gashes
All fell from her body like dirty gray ashes
Left in a circle of stones for a fire
Blown away with a burst of wind from on high.
She knew that all that was broken was mended.
Every blow that visited her, this King Jesus had attended.
With His love He had healed her of all of her pain.
Of all she remembered that bound her with chains.
Her eyes showed her joy as an angel appeared
With wings of an eagle…then her eyes teared.
“Your wish to fly” Jesus said as He smiled
“Is one of the many wishes I’ve filed”.
She then turned away from the Great Mighty King.
Her head bowed low, and her heart breaking.
“Jesus, thank you for all that You’ve done.
Now I know that You are the One.”
The small child looked deep in His eyes.
She saw that this pleased Him, and saw His surprise.
He thought for a moment. He became very still.
He studied the child, and her courage and will.
She stood like a warrior, though her body was small.
She stood like a warrior that could conquer them all.
Her eyes never left His. She kept her gaze steady.
“I know I can do this” she said “and I’m ready.”
“Little one” said Jesus “what I ask you to do
Is to go back where I found you and love them as I’ve loved you.
Tell them about Me and all that you know,
All that you’ve seen, and your clothes white as snow.
Tell them to listen when they hear My voice.
How you heard all the angels in heaven rejoice!
My Glory! My Power! My Unfailing Love!
The Mercy and Grace of My Father above.
Tell them the story that I told you before
As you lay in a heap on that cold dirty floor.
How I too was a child not more than four.
How I too was beaten and the cross that I bore.
How I died on that cross for all of their sins.
How I conquered the enemy, and in three days rose again!
Tell them, My child, of My Mercy and Grace.
Of the Glory that’s shining out of My Face!
I must tell you my little one, how much I love you.
Always remember this day that I touched you.”
With one final touch her eyes gently closed
And she slept in His arms in her beautiful new clothes.
She felt rivers of love flow through her heart,
And she felt a strange feeling that they’d soon be apart.
The air that she breathed changed very slowly.
From fragrant and fresh, to damp and smoky.
Her eyes were so heavy and her body lay frozen
She wondered about this task she had chosen.
She heard muffled voices harsh and low.
A man and a woman, one was saying, “Let’s go.”
“What if she’s dead?” said the voice of the man.
“Then we’d be caught. We need a plan.”
She heard their footsteps fading and the closing of the door.
She knew she was back in her life from before.
Her whole body hurt…every bone felt.
Her head throbbed like a drum and she hid in her quilt.
“JESUS! WHERE ARE YOU?” she cried out in fear.
“Fear not, My little one. I am right here.”
Day after day the small child told them
Of Jesus and heaven and all that He’d showed her.
Each time their anger rose up against her
Each time Jesus sent angels to love and to minister
To a small broken child no older than four
Who remembered His love and that day on the floor
As the years passed her memory faded.
Her heart built up walls their hatred created.
The small child forgot of Jesus and heaven.
All she could see were the blows she was given.
Her spirit grew small and quietly hid.
She placed on her face a mask like they did.
Their anger subsided, their attention diverted
To a form of religion so grossly perverted
From the truth that she knew deep in her heart
Locked away from the hatred that tore her apart.
The years passed like clouds in the violence of a storm.
Lightening and thunder filled each and every form.
The mask of a child grew into the mask of a woman.
She studied and watched. She learned what they wanted.
Everyone smiled. They seemed very pleased
With the mask that she wore with such elegant ease.
“You are so pretty.” “You are so nice.”
“You are so kind.” “You are just right.”
The words pierced like a sword. Like a knife to her heart.
For she felt the remembrance of an unfinished start.
A divine holy Voice calling her home.
It tugged and it pulled and it spoke in her poems.
“O little one, I know you are hurting.
You don’t understand why My love they’re perverting.
O little one, please come back to me.
Remember My Blood can set you all free.
I will fill you with Strength. I will fill you with Power.
For such a time as this NOW is the hour!
Time is of the essence. Run into My arms.
Come My little one, come just as you are.
I am not angry. I will not hurt you.
Remember My promise-I will never desert you.
“COME TO ME CHILDREN.
COME JUST AS YOU ARE.
I WILL LOVE YOU AND HEAL YOU.
I AM THE BRIGHT MORNING STAR.
THE ALPHA. THE OMEGA.
THE BEGINNING. THE END.
I, MY DEAR CHILDREN
DIED FOR YOUR SINS.
I AM THE WAY, THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE.
I AM KING OF KINGS.
I AM LORD OF LORDS
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