Poem:

I'm reading a commentary on Romans by John MacArthur, and while I was reading it I came upon this poem.

"O long and dark the stairs I trod

With trembling feet to find my God

Gaining a foothold bit by bit,

Then slipping back and losing it.

Never progressing; striving still

With weakening grasp and faltering will,

Bleeding to climb to God, while he

Serenely smiled, unnoting me.

Then came a certain time when I

Loosened my hold and fell thereby;

Down to the lowest step my fall,

As if I had not climbed at all

Now when I lay despairing there,

Listen...a footfall on the stair,

On that same stair where I afraid,

And lo, when hope ceased to be,

My God came down the stairs to me."

Anonymous