I'd fled this furious element,
faced it's aftermath in a mental storm.
You fed me, clothed me, housed me,
kept me and mine from more harm.
Fear often kept me tensely silent from week to week.
Then, one of you a kind word to me would speak.
When I wished to hide,
just run away from this life-altering tide,
one would make me smile, putting pep back in my stride.
You touched my heart in ways I find hard to explain.
Now each thought of you makes my eyes flood
as New Orleans did after Katrina's reign.
You sheltered me, this stranger in your midst.
Without hesitation, you did this.
You blanketed me with love,
warmed me with compassion,
thawed my uncertainty with fire from your souls.
You put your own lives on hold to shelter me.
You never called me a refugee
nor did you address me as evacuee.
I was dubbed a resident.
You'll never know how much that meant.
You opened up your sanctuary.
There you let my weary spirit tarry
to ease the burden my tired body did heavily carry.
Confusing stubbornness for strength,
I'd try to hold the moisture's fall from my eye.
Then, your Co-Pastor told me,
" Go ahead, it's okay to cry."
At the precise moment
I thought I'd reached the end of my rope
I raised my head to find myself filled with New Hope.
A force more powerful than nature,
the actual Creator of both you and I
sent me to your doors and I've stopped asking myself why.
I no longer need a reason.
I know to question God's will is tantamount to holy treason.
These words are His way of allowing me
to thank you all for sheltering me.
c opyright # TXu1-260-432
Adding your comment:
). Your strength is what will carry you forward and the ability to be helped by others - is something many people lack. This is a fantastic heartfelt tribute to those who helped you in your time of need.
