The Healing Hands Of God
by Richard John Scarr
(Brighton, East Sussex, England)
I thought the man who laid on Hands,
possessed a special gift
For with the leaving of the pain.
I felt my spirits lift.
With great profuse, I thanked him.
My gratitude plain to see.
But he shook his head. And quietly said.
"The Healing did not come from me!"
"I am merely but a channel.
And the Healing was not mine.
Nor can I walk on water!
Or turn water into wine!"
"For like you, I too an mortal.
And to thank me would be wrong.
I am privileged just to be a tool.
So send your thanks where they belong."
And on seeing light begin to dawn.
He smiled, and gave a nod.
"My Hand are just an instrument!
But the Healing Hands, are God's!"
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