Whole

A Poem Written for a Dear Friend

This is an alliterative and (mostly) rhyming poem I wrote several years ago at the behest of a dear friend who needed some encouragement. His life has been completely derailed by repeated head-injuries resulting in post-concussion syndrome. It hindered him not only physically, but spiritually and mentally as well; his whole personality was affected.

One of the most confident men I’ve ever known became unsure of himself. This snow-boarding, tree-planting, long-bearded mountain man, who taught me how to trail-blaze and scramble up the side of shale cliffs (besides much else), who lived out of a van retrofitted with a bed, always ready for the next adventure no matter how unknown the factors, lost his ability make simple decisions. He lost a woman who was previously his match in every way because he lost the capacity to be present and vulnerable. He lost a piece of his soul.

He has, to his credit, forged on. He’s done so much of the hard work of healing. He’s rested - one of the hardest things for him to do. He’s taken it slow. He even accomplished a degree in education, even though it took him a little longer than it would have otherwise. But it hasn’t been easy. When I speak him - as often as he has the energy for it (even answering the phone is mentally draining for him these days), he often tells me how everything that once was so natural feels like an uphill battle. Every step has come with great toil.

My heart aches for my friend. I know that the Lord will use even this to his good, and the good of those his life touches, but that doesn’t minimize the pain of it all.

Lord, have mercy on my friend. May he see you in the midst of his trials, and cling to your goodness. Amen.

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Photo by Vitaliy Shevchenko on Unsplash

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Whole

Victorious man, of valour wrought,
standing tall by tree of old;
his head held high and proud,
no more enshrined by Mortal Shroud.

His agéd beard like braided silver,
his fixéd gaze held fast and true;
upon his head a helm is sat,
inlaid with gold, engraving-wrapped

with ancient symbols: salvific assurance.
His breast, arrayed in argent steel,
gleams with rays of righteous sign:
the brand of Him who binds all time.

Fitted on his feet is peace,
and all his paths usher home,
where no shield shall be needed,
and the sword shall be sheathed, unheeded.

For lo! Truth lives and breaths,
and Faith gives eyes to ever see.
The man who's robed in the Master's light
is he who fought fierce the fight.

Take heart my friend, and heed my cheer,
for such a man I see in you!
Though shield, and sword unsheathed you need
while Mortal Shroud enshrines your soul,

Yet shall the Master make you whole.

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Thanks for reading!