I offer pretty turns of phrase
A silken view of life,
But nothing I can do or say
Can turn misfortune’s knife.
I cannot heal a broken heart
Or give back the job lost,
My words can’t help the soldiers’ wife
Whose loved one paid the cost.
My words won’t hold back the wild tide
Or lift despair’s grim shade
And nothing I can say or write
Can change the choice that’s made,
But still I raise my songs of praise
And share the sights I see,
For he, who can do all these things,
Has asked that much of me.
So while he works to heal a world,
Where hope is often scant,
I’ll work at those things I can do
And leave him what I can’t.
Job 6:11
“What strength do I have, that I should still hope? What prospects, that I should be patient?
“What strength do I have, that I should still hope? What prospects, that I should be patient?
No comments:
Post a Comment