I’m glad that I have felt the knife of pain,
That I have known how salty tears can be.
I’m glad my cross is far too great a load
For me to bear alone, or easily.
For in the darkness with a wounded heart
I found the Master’s healing hand,
And on my knees, afraid to rise again,
I found the strength to stand.
By Richard A. Ryan
This is a poem I found in a newsletter published by Christian inmates at one of our state prisons. I hope it touches you as it touched me.