POETRY: The Healing Touch, by Helen Steiner Rice

The Healing Touch Helen Steiner Rice

Before You Can Dry Another’s Tears — You Too Must Weep!

Let me not live a life that’s free
From “the things” that draw me close the Thee—
For how can I ever hope to heal
The wounds of others I do not feel—
If my eyes are dry and I never weep,
How do I know when the hurt is deep—
If my  heart is cold and it never bleeds,
How can I tell what my brother needs—
For when ears are deaf to the beggar’s plea
And we close our eyes and refuse to see,
And we steel our hearts and harden our minds,
And we count it a weakness whenever we’re kind,
We are no longer following the Father’s Way
Or seeking His guidance from day to day—
For, without “crosses to carry” and “burdens to bear,”
We dance through a life that is frothy and fair,
And “chasing the rainbow” we have no desire
For “roads that are rough” and “realms that are higher—
So spare me no heartache or sorrow, dear Lord,
For the heart that is hurt reaps the richest reward,
And God enters the heart that is broken with sorrow
As he opens the door to a Brighter Tomorrow,
For only through tears can we recognize
The suffering that lies in another’s eyes.

The Better You Know God, the Better You Feel

The better you know God, the better you feel,
For to learn and discover and know God is real
Can wholly, completely and miraculously change,
Reshape and remake and then rearrange
Your mixed-up, miserable and unhappy life
“Adrift on the sea of sin-sickened strife”—
But once you know Christ, the “Man of goodwill,”
Will calm your life and say “Peace, be still”. . .
So open your “heart’s door” and let Christ come in
And He’ll give you new life and free you from sin—
And there is no joy that can ever compare
With the joy of knowing you’re in God’s care.

Each Day Brings a Chance to Do Better

How often we wish for another chance
To make a fresh beginning,
A chance to blot out our  mistakes
And change failure into winning—
And it does not take a special time
To make a brand-new start,
It only takes the deep desire
To try with all our heart
To live a little better
And to always be forgiving
And to add a little “sunshine”
To the world in which we’re living—
So never give up in despair
And think that you are through,
For there’s always a tomorrow
And a chance to start anew.

My Daily Prayer

Bless me, heavenly Father,
Forgive my erring ways,
Grant me strength to serve Thee,
Put purpose in my days.
Give me understanding
Enough to make me kind
So I may judge all people
With my heart and not my mind.
And teach me to be patient
In everything I do,
Content to trust Your wisdom
And to follow after You.
And help me when I falter
And hear me when I pray
And receive me in Thy kingdom
To dwell with Thee some day.

God Is Never Beyond Our Reach

No one ever sought the Father
And found He was not there,
And no burden is too heavy
To be lightened by a prayer,
No problem is too intricate
And no sorrow that we face
Is too deep and devastating
To be softened by His grace,
No trials and tribulations
Are beyond what we can bear
If we share them with our Father
As we talk to Him in prayer—
And men of every color,
Every race and every creed
Have but to seek the Father
In their deepest hour of need—
God asks for no credentials,
He accepts us with our flaws,
He is kind and understanding
And He welcomes us because
We are His erring children
And he loves us every one,
And He freely and completely
Forgives all that we have done,
Asking only if we’re ready
To follow where He leads—
Content that in His wisdom
He will answer all our needs.

Seasons of the Soul

Why am I cast down and despondently sad
When I long to be happy and joyous and glad?
Why is my heart heavy with unfathomable weight
As I try to escape this soul-saddened state?
I ask myself often, “What makes life this way?
Why is the son silenced in the heart that was gay?”
And then with God’s help it all becomes clear.
The soul has its seasons just the same as the year.
I too must pass through life’s autumn of dying,
A desolate period of heart-hurt and crying,
Followed by winter in whose frostbitten hand
My heart is as frozen as the snow-covered land.
Yes, man too must pass through the seasons God sends,
Content in the knowledge that everything ends,
And oh what a blessing to know there are reasons
And to find that our soul must, too, have its seasons—
Bounteous seasons and barren ones, too,
Times for rejoicing and times to be blue,
But meeting these seasons of dark desolation
With strength that is born of anticipation
That comes from knowing the “autumn-time sadness”
Will surely be followed by a “Springtime of Gladness.”

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3 Comments on POETRY: The Healing Touch, by Helen Steiner Rice

  1. No matter if some one searches for his necessary thing,
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