Wednesday, February 29, 2012
The Kiss of Christ
Lo, there He hangs
dying figure pinned
against the wood.
God, grant that I might
love Him.
even as I should.
I draw a little closer to
share His love divine,
and I softly hear Him
whisper,
"O foolish child of Mine,
if now I should embrace
you,
My hands would stain
you red,
and if I bent to kiss you,
My thorns would
pierce your head."
'Twas then I learned in
meekness
That love demands a
price;
'Twas then I knew that
sorrow was just
The Kiss of Christ.
- from a prayer card
Monday, February 27, 2012
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