“How broken can you be?”
Jesus asked,
His hand stretched down to me.
For I was kneeling there,
crushed in the valley of care.
All around me the remains
of a life constructed with such pains.
Pride and self reliance cower,
Two planes crashed into my twin towers.
I see with feeble eyes that Jesus has a pack
A walking stick, and all I need upon his back
“Can you daily be this broken?”
Is the burning question spoken
Then you are ready at last to walk with Me
And trade Your wasted days for shining victory.

A Christian poem by:  Karen Fillman

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