The Beautiful Gait

More thoughts from the rescued and redeemed for Easter weekend. I am not a poet by any means, but I am willing to feel foolish to lavish my King with words from a grateful heart.

Taken from Acts 3:1-10, The Healing of the Paralytic.

The Beautiful Gait

Broken from birth,

unable to walk in the shame and unworth,

that my existence reminds me of daily.

 

My time is filled with things I can’t do, places I can’t go,

and the limited world that I see, of hems, dust, and feet,

—truly, doesn’t want to see me.

Has there ever been anyone so unlovely at the Beautiful Gate?

 

A burden to my family,

who carries their trouble out here gladly,

and leaves me to watch and to beg.

Every day I sit in the shadows

of gleaming deliverance and glory,

but its light has never once shined on me.

 

The faithful and beautiful of the city,

and me crying out for pity,

but willing to shame them if they blithely pass me by.

 

I know they would never offer me a bed,

a table or crust of bread,

but here before men, we exchange coin for piety.

 

But on this day, unlike any other,

walking by I saw the brothers;

the followers and friends of the Crucified King.

 

I began to call out,

hoping they would have alms or offering for me.

“Look at us!” The disciple commands.

I comply, lifting empty hands,

waiting to see what he will give unto me.

 

“Silver and gold, have I none,

but what I have I will gladly give thee—

In the Name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!”

 

Oh! I had seen and heard that name before.

So, I knew well the stories of their Lord.

And I wondered if this might be a day of miracles for me.

 

 

I didn’t even know how to stand,

So, I offered him my hand,

praying his power would somehow

reach all the way to my feet.

 

Instantly, I felt it—

in places nothing had ever been felt.

Muscles that had never been,

now plumping up my empty skin.

And bones from birth, unused and fragile,

in an instant made strong and agile.

 

I jumped up and walked,

though I never had before.

For the first time ever,

I walked through the Beautiful Gate with thanksgiving,

and leapt into the courts of praise, with praise!

 

Jesus Christ of Nazareth!

The same power that raised Lazarus,

had finally been poured out on me.

Understand, it wasn’t just faith that healed me.

It was the mere mention of the Name of the Healer—

the Name above all names, indeed!

 

On the last day I ever spent begging,

I held out empty hands,

and received the ability to finally stand.

I asked for crumbs or coins, and He gave me dignity.

 

The Name of Christ changed my life,

from heel to heart, to habits.

Nothing will ever be the same,

I carry the testimony of the lame—

who’s now able to walk in HIS victory.

 

A moment changed my eternity.

Every day spent praising THE God—

with healing in His Name!

Why would He allow me to walk, if not to GO and OBEY?

 

Broken and cursed,

but made whole in rebirth,

now given life and life everlasting.

Won’t you walk through the Beautiful Gate with me?

–Sara Johnson, a grateful pillar and paralytic