Migraine and My Purpose

All the ground I’ve gained
The least two weeks
Scales down behind me
As I rejoice at the peak:
Praises and communion,
But the old, familiar enemy
Brings my body to a halt:
A pain-wracked cacophony.
This time we set aside to celebrate
Now in bed, I pray relief
To force this physical aggressor
Return the blade into the sheath
How deeply I desire mission
A life spent tending the soil
In the great vineyard
Wherein the fruit may never spoil-
Father, use the pain that grinds me,
Use my willingness and my sin,
To feed the sheep You send me,
To be Your fisher of men

From this age unto the end.