I Was There At the Temple

Jesus Heals a Lame Man

by H.T. Lawrence

 

I was there that day at the temple.

When all had gathered to see Him.

When the invitation came for the sick or,

The lame, or the blind, or the halt, or the

Maimed, or leprous, or those that are withered,

Or the death, or afflicted in any way to come

Up so He could heal them.

 

I had always thought that

My son’s lameness was my entire fault,

A punishment for my youthful sins.

 

I had let my passions to go beyond

What God’s commandments had said was good.

When my parents found out that I was pregnant

They sent me away to Bountiful to have the child.

In Bountiful I stayed with a loving couple,

Joseph and Adah.

There was no judgment of condemnation,

Just loving understanding and sharing the Gospel

By their everyday example.

 

During my stay in Bountiful

I had many long talks with Joseph and Adah.

They taught me to pray, to really pray.

I came to a hard conclusion to give my baby

Up for adoption, this was what was best

For the both of us.

 

When it was time for the delivery

Adah was there with the midwife,

To help bring this new life into

The world. A boy.

 

In my heart I named him Joseph

but never uttered it aloud.

 

By this time a home had been found

For my first born with a loving childless couple.

A blessing was given to me at that time as well,

A job of being wet nurse to my little Joseph.

 

I stayed with the family for eight months,

During that time I gave my boy a life time of love.

Told him stories of his father who never knew of him.

Taught my little man about Joseph and Adah

 

Then one night I kissed his little head one last time,

Put him in his bead, kissed the cheeks of the those

Who had come to love my Joseph as much as I did,

And walk out to start my new life and never see him again.

 

I move to a town to where I was a stranger.

Where no one knew my past, I married

And when my second son,

The first child with my husband,

Was born lame I knew it was my punishment.

 

I did all I could do to make my second son’s

Life the best that it could be.

With the help of his father we taught

Him how to overcome his lameness.

 

I gave this second son double helpings of love,

One helping for him and one for his brother.

Even as busy as I was I never forgot my first.

At times I would just daydream what he would be doing.

 

The first thing every morning, in my mind

I would say the names of my children

And tell them that I love them and ask God to bless them.

The last thing at night I would do the same.

 

When the call came that day my joy overflowed

For my son, now a man who had never been able

To walk yet alone run as other could.

We went up as a family, with his wife and children.

 

What I did not realize at the time was that I was

Going up for me, for my heart to be healed.

The Savior took me in his arms, kissed me on the cheek,

As he did I felt His love and recognized the same love I felt

When I was in the home of Joseph and Adah,

The same love I felt for my family

 

Then there was a whisper in my ear,

“Your sins are forgiven, I have suffered for them.

You have always done what is best and your best

For your children, and I have filled in the rest.

Peace fill your heart, you have nothing to feel guilty for.

You one son was born lame so I could heal him today.

 

Praise to my Father above

For that day I saw my Savior

And I was set free.

 

By H. T. Lawrence (pen name)

A.K.A Larry T. Hollist

Christopher D. Cunningham, the LDS.net content director, loves emphatically celebrating his son Albus' normal healthy development, writing about the Church of Jesus Christ, finding the middle ground on most controversies, and using Western Family generic brand lip balm. Christopher is a proud graduate of Brigham Young University-Idaho, and a resident of Lockhart, Texas. He is a longtime supporter of the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.
  • Stephen

    This is really terrible. It’s a sort of narrative poetry I guess, but the story is painfully simplistic yet unnecessarily specific. There is no flow or lyricism to the verse, either. Contrived and banal stories like this should be banished from our religious discourse.