[in]perfection


A handicapped person hobbles past
Slowed down by his blindness
Or her physical defect
We may lead a helping hand
But beneath this smiling facade
Is a heart full of pity
For the poor unfortunate one
Cursed with that painful affliction
"How can God be so cruel?" we ask


Encounters with the 'special'people
Are no better; many times, worse
Individuals who are a little slower
Or happily live in a world of their own
We often shun them like the plague
Feeling disgusted by their actions
Which we deem nonsensical - at best


Perhaps we have forgotten one simple fact
That we are actually the same
That we are all handicapped
Each are imperfect in some way
Maybe an addiction that still rules us
Or a sin that we succumb to ceaselessly
Yet we rather deceive ourselves
Into thinking that we are perfect
Unlike the 'God-forsaken' minority


Actually they seem better-off compared to us
At least their disability is so apparent
Ours are hidden, just the way we like them
Tucked away far deep inside
Making us unwilling to expose everything
And destroy our flawless images
Even we, who know in our minds
That each in Christ is a new creation


But our solace is in the fact and knowledge
That everyonewho believes in Him would
One day enjoy perfection
In body, mind and spirit
In the perfect home of glorious heaven
Where insecurities would matter no more
Where prejudices have no place


For each realises
That God is unparalelled
In His glory and majesty
[190205]


*still learning to practise what i preach