Wounded

On the beach for the past three days I have seen a small sea bird with a wounded leg. He frequents the area where I typically begin my walk, hopping on one foot, his remaining leg hanging limp and useless. He seems so fragile, this small bird, so much in need of help. What can I do? I can’t approach; he runs or flies in a panic when I draw near. I feel helpless and frustrated. He seems able to survive, but obviously has trouble maneuvering in the sand, in taking off in flight, and in landing. I think of those people in my acquaintance who are also wounded, disabled by depression and lack of faith, their futures hanging as limp and useless as that wounded leg. Like this bird, they refuse help, preferring to suffer alone, distrusting anyone who seeks to bring them comfort. Dear Father, please accept my prayers on their behalf. Please let them feel your presence, your love, your hope, your healing touch. If I can be an instrument of your love, please use me as you see fit. Amen.

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