The physician looks at pain, and through his understanding of it (its causes and remedies), can administer to it. His hands, molded through compassion, seek and reach the inner poison that rages within the body, taking up residence and spreading throughout, like a storm that never ends. But when the storm has lifted, his hands have found and destroyed the enemy that has settled in and conquered the spirit.
Your pain, self-inflicted through your misunderstanding, succumbs to his knowledge of it. Relief becomes a reality, which seemed like only a dream to the afflicted, like the parched roots of the plant dreaming of the rain to nurture it. And what say to you who knows the enemy? Then your affliction is not self-imposed. A heavy chain has been placed around you choking your spirit. A sea of sacred tears shall bring your ship to a safe port. The holy one shall take the helm, and his wings shall enfold you and guide you to safety.
If it should be a Godless tyranny that you have escaped from, may it die by its own sword. For corruption that takes itself and rises to the top, crashes to the bottom again, destroyed by its retaliating responses. It has been proven through the ages, for it has left behind a diary of life and its consequences. For the lost sheep not knowing his place on earth, may you minister to it with insight fueled by the hand of God. If the soul is an empty pit longing to be filled, why should it not be?
If the desperate cries are pure and sincere, you should righteously serve God by tending to their needs. Both of your coffers will be filled, and your hearts shall abound with gladness, yours for a labor of love.
If you suffer, yield to the physician who works within the heart of God. Though the medicine may be bitter to your taste, it is the careful compassionate hand that guides it, and its insight and good intentions ease the pain.

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