A Poem: Healer of the Hidden Places

Healer of the Hidden Places

God heals in places hands can’t reach,
Where wounds are whispered, not made speech.
In thoughts that ache, in fears unseen,
In fractured parts where pain has been.

He meets us where the mind feels torn,
Where shame has lived, where hope feels worn.
He does not rush, He does not shame,
He calls us gently by our name.

When voices lie and shadows speak,
When strength feels gone and faith feels weak,
He reminds the soul of what is true:
You are Mine—and I am with you.

Not every scar is gone in haste,
Some healing grows in sacred pace.
But every tear is held with care,
Each broken prayer still meets Him there.

What once was war within the mind
Becomes a place His light can shine.
For where the enemy meant defeat,
God plants restoration at our feet.

So rest, dear heart, you are not lost.
Your healing came at holy cost.
The cross still speaks, the tomb stands bare—
There is no wound beyond His care.