Just a few moments ago, I was down-trodden with pain and seemingly unnoticeable rejection
People do not seem to notice
The look in my eyes; the frown in my face
Despite the excruciating pain of a wounded soul
Why in the world they would come to me for help?
Don’t they know that I, too, am crying out for help?
Can’t they see? I am wounded, too.
I am losing sight; my vision grows dim
My wounds do not seem to heal
The cut is deep; healing has to start from within
But in the midst of pain and silent groaning
People look up to me, they come running for help
God, I do not deserve to minister
Because I need to be ministered to