I never milked a cow
but at times have sat
on a three-legged stool.
As sturdy as they are
a sawed-off leg is danger,
even just shaved a bit.
For years my wobbly leg
was physical, and I knew
if that were repaired I’d thrive.
But when it began to even
I found the mental leg
assaulted with sick thinking,
with believing myself better,
worst, the “…est”
whether that was best or worst.
When I finally learned
I wasn’t on a ladder
even with none, above most,
below a few I worshipped,
envied, hated for their perfection.
The mental leg no longer
stood as the weakest of the stool.
But that spiritual tool…
I knew the Bible, church history,
had been church staff
in three congregations,
but my spiritual leg wobbled
until I came to believe.
And with that the legs evened out
and I was a whole person
all three parts of me
together again.