With armour bright and heart turned cold.
My servant lay in pain and strife,
I feared that death would take his life.
But word of a healer reached my ear,
A man named Jesus, drawing near.
Not like the rulers we obeyed,
He brought a love that never swayed.
I came to Him, with soldier's might,
Yet knowing I held no healing right.
I said, “Lord, don’t come, just say the word,
For with Your voice, sickness is cured.”
I am a man of power, command,
Yet humbled by His gentle hand.
He marvelled at my simple plea,
And spoke the word that set him free.
My servant rose, by grace alone,
A healing not by flesh or bone.
I saw in Him a love so pure,
That even death could not endure.
I was that centurion, once so sure,
But now I know, His power is more.
Not just to heal, but hearts to mend,
For His mercy has no end.
With just a word, my life was changed,
My soul awakened, my heart rearranged.
For in this man, I saw the light,
A glimpse of heaven in my sight.
© 2025 - the247catholic.blogspot.com
If using this poem, feel free to link to
the247catholic.blogspot.com
Thank You.