The Passion
by Kathleen HighamShe waits in agonizing silence
Heart pounding, eyes straining to see
An unbearable vision before her
Her Lord, her Savior, it's He.
Over the hill, she sees Him
The cross, so rugged, so cold
Each step He takes is labored
As written in the Book of old.
He is painfully drawing near
She knows the sins He'll bear
Bloody tears fall to the earth
Crowning thorns buried in His hair.
Her soul weeps in bitterness
But, His soul rests with God
She is feeling such helplessness
Staring at the path He trod.
For a moment, time stood still
Falling before Him on her knees
Her veil, she pressed to His face
Before cruel hands came to seize.
The heart of a nurse within her
A broken heart cried, so unfair
For every nurse has felt this
Communing with God, her prayer.
Who must He be, that created
A place where only love can go
Out of nothing came everything
Only the true God can know.
Can I be so exquisitely loving?
Let gentility take me to Divine ground
Where the imperishable heart of Jesus
Comes through me without a sound.
Gentleness, a fundamental ingredient
An outward display of strength and love
Composure in the midst of stress
Brings a glimpse of our God above.
Oh, the passion of the nurse
She is mystically filled with power
A personal encounter with Jesus Christ
Helps her tend to your darkest hour.
Witnessing death, then miraculous birth
With the Lord, she shares it all
The nurse, always, always the nurse
Her spirituality hears God's call.
Her prayer is God's greatest gift
With abandonment, she will pray for you
Tenderly washing your pain-filled face
God's hands teach her what to do.
Oh, the passion of the nurse
When she comes to bring relief
The sweetness of her gentle soul
Completed by her relentless belief.
That God alone has gifted her
With a reverence for all mankind
Oh, the passion of the nurse
Who possesses a Christ-like mind.
