Diann
It’s rare
Someone whose very name
even when spoken softly
spreads life like wildfire.
It’s immediate
because that name
floods the mind with memories
and fills it up until the ocean o v e r f l o w s
and tears fall.
It’s unusual
Someone whose suffering has penetrated
the hearts of thousands
bolstered the prayer life
of hundreds
inspired courage through
ENcouragement.
She breathes beauty
as her broken body
belabors
and
braves
the disease infiltrating her being.
But her
basest response?
Praise.
Her hands
outstretched in purest
simplest
love of the Father
push through the darkness
and shine
reckless abandon as she
TRUSTS
and
FOLLOWS
and
quietly
SERVES
in the midst of
the agony and despair of earthly sorrow.
She dons a blonde wig
and
smiles
as c o u n t l e s s
sit at her feet
and learn
that
God doesn’t waste a hurt.
She answers the phone
and
whispers
through nauseous fog
and the love
of Jesus
penetrates the soul.
She cries out in pain
and her Father
kneels down,
softly holding
her close:
peace in the midst
of
heartbreak.
She
is
a
warrior.
And a host
of those infected
by her humility
stand at her side
weapons drawn and ready
Sending powerful prayer
to heaven for
HEALING.
He has not forsaken her.
Her brokenness is not forgotten.
Her beauty reaches a nation of writers
and I
lift a pen in honor
of
Diann.