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At the Feet of Jesus
by Julie Michaelson
02/13/08
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I am weary
with my groaning,
and I find
no rest.
[Jeremiah 45:3]
***********************
"I was nothin, Lord."

[SILENCE.]

"Nothin.
Nothin, at all."

[SILENCE.]

"...Just a piece 'a old, damp newspaper
crumpled up, and smelly from the
garbage, that got tossed into
the rubbish can one night."

[PATIIENT SILENCE.]

"The garbage cans were set out,
along the curb, to be picked up
Monday morning. Their lids were
on pretty tight, at least enough
to keep the smell out. A couple
nats settled on top, though
there weren't too many, being
as it was so cold out."

"Yes, My child."

"Yeah, Lord.
But, then a funny thing happened."

"What, My precious?"

"Well, a breeze came up,
in the wee hours of the
chilly morning; it stiffened
into a sharp wind, blowing
off the smelly garbage lids.
I had been squashed down, on top
of one of the green plastic bags, so
the wind lifted me right off."

"Go on."

"There I was, all crumpled up,
damp, smelly, dirty, and ragged.
The breeze became a wind,
and kicked me about,
down the street,
and along the sidewalks."

[NOD.]

"I skittered along, feeling
desolate, and lost, and
hopeless with nowhere to go.
The sidewalks were cold,
dark, drizzly, and very quiet."

"Yes, child."

"I was just a crumpled ball
of day old newspaper, so
the wind carried me easily."

[NOD.]

"Then, suddenly, just as
it had picked up, the cold wind
died down a bit,
letting me slide miserably
along the cold, damp
pavement......and, finally
to come rest....."

"Where, child?"

"at Your Feet, Jesus.
at Your Feet."
********************************
I am the Lord,
and besides Me,
there is no savior.
[Isaiah 43:11]




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