A day in a world caught up in a race,
busy streets, polluted air, forlorn face.
Taking a birds eye view, of a complicated world.
a frantic trap waiting to be hurled.

Yet a hand divine displays a picture of God Himself.
through His creation, His endless wealth.
We are so small yet an intricate part of a fabric blend of perfect art.
Though the groaning of our heart, eat away and tare us apart.

He grafts within a wounded soul
His love, His grace, so strong, so full.
To different heights, He gently leads, through desert lands . . .
then mountain weeds.

But each step we take, not alone
for God the Father calls us on . . .
Prodding us, watching us from sunrise to sunset.
His hand of love holding us abreast.

To strengthen, prepare us for what days lie ahead.
breathing life to our dry bones that seem very dead.
So Praise the Lord, whether you are happy or sad.
Remember who is really your Dad.

Be His child, so sweet and so pure.
For not, but rest, in His loving arms.
The days seem weary and you don’t feel strong.
The wait may seem to tarry along.
The end result will be a fruitful song.

“Be still and know that I am God”

Copyright – August 19, 1998
Rebecca Wills-Robinson.