I’m resting in my Savior’s hand,
My cheek against his palm.
The wind whips fiercely all around,
But in his hand its calm.
I walk the world that sears me, but
My soul has found its balm,
I’m resting in my Savior’s hand
My cheek against his palm.
Because in each day, no matter how dark or how long, there is a praise to be found. Sometimes our hearts are too weary or too frightened to voice them, but our souls cry out to God... and He is there.
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