One day I dug a little hole,
And put my hurt inside.
I thought that I could just forget,
I’d put it there to hide.
But that little hurt began to grow,
I covered it every day.
I couldn’t leave it and go on,
It seemed the price I had to pay.
My joy was gone, my heart was sad,
Pain was all I knew.
My wounded soul enveloped me,
Loving seemed too hard to do.
One day, while standing by my hole,
I cried to God above.
And said, “If You are really there –
They say, You’re a God of Love!”
And just like that He was right there,
And just put His arms around me.
He wiped my tears, His hurting child,
There was no safer place to be.
I told Him all about my hurt,
I opened up my heart.
He listened to each and every word,
To every sordid part.
I dug down deep and got my hurt,
I brushed the dirt away.
And placed it in the Master’s hand,
And healing came that day.
He took the blackness of my soul,
And set my spirit free!
Something beautiful began to grow,
Where the hurt used to be.
And when I look at what has grown,
Out of my tears and pain.
I remember every day to give my hurts to Him,
And never bury them again.
This is a poem Lisa found and the author was anonymous.