Cambridge Dove Ministries
The Intolerable Moan
I laid in the hospital bed all night;
and every night as the lights went out
she cried, screamed and she moaned.
"Lord", I said, "she is so full of fright;"
as she kept screaming with a throaty
It was a horrendous sound; she groaned
A nurse came in and I asked her quickly,
and moaned in agony...there was no sound
any place on earth like it to be found.
"What's the problem with the poor wrench
across the hall?" "Oh. Honey, she just
ain't right..she done went and lost her mind."
"Is she in pain?" I asked.
There was no response.
Moaning in the only way she knew how to
communicate....I went to her...she was
pitiful...no-one cared...no-one washed her,
no-one combed her long tangled hair, no-one
held her hand and told her she mattered.
Then I commanded the demons to leave...to go to
the morgue....and stay there. For in Jesus
Name, she was set free. She sat with me and
let me hold her...I helped bathed her and combed
her hair and put it up really pretty.....and then,
yes, then....she, so calmly said, "Thank you
my child, I am now free."
Her name just happened to be Mary Grace.
That day I know there was a smile on God's face.
Dedicated to the memory of Mrs. Weeta Onley
Written and Copyrighted 2005 by Gail M. Wilkins
Winner of International Poets Society Award
Winner of International Photography Award
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In conjunction with Cambridge Dove Ministries