dedicated to Karen B. for coming to me back in 1997 with her pain

and for believing God's Word to exact remarkable change

She loved her husband and child well,
of that, no doubt, I could tell;
yet, inside she seethed and railed,
bitterness in her heart a deadly nail.
For you see, her father had loved her—
in all the wrong ways,
and mother made her pay.

Then I showed her life's real foe,
so to her parents she could go…
heal the wounds, bridge the breach
by God's forgiving love, I teach.
"Are you a prophet?" she asked
once of me.
I answered, "God has all the answers
for thee."

She wanted to know about The Revelation;
then I spoke of coming devastation
and desolation,
of how His sheep will be taken up
and given mercy overflowing our cup.
"Are you a prophet?" she asked
twice of me.
I answered, "Christ's sword will not spare,
rather it not be thee."

At last, she asked about God's Law,
and for her I covered it all:
explained about the great whore,
what she and her daughters stand for.
"Are you a prophet?" she asked
thrice of me.
I said, "Life is predestined,
Not a throw of dice for thee."

"I've asked you three times, all to
no profit,
are you? You speak like a prophet."
Finally I said, "I can utter
neither yea nor nay,
for it is not mine to say.
But, if speaking God's secrets
and mysteries means I am,
then believe of me
what you will, only in God believe
for thee.

My job with her was done,
one more united with His Son.
I prepared to let her go,
another job in on time.
But, as I turned, I heard
her voice chime,
"Please tell me, just once of thee:
are you a prophet? Oh, do say for me."