As A Hen With Her Brood

 

I cried out to Him in my pain,
“Why is this life so hard?”
I thought then, as if He replied,
My wrists and feet aren’t scarred.
 
Complicated still isn’t hard,
And worry’s not defeat.
Even more so when I can lay
Those worries at His feet.
 
I don’t know what tomorrow holds
Or what I’ll have to face,
But I know who is holding me
Within His perfect grace.
 
Forgive me, Lord, for self-pity
When You faced so much more.
You trusted God, I’ll trust in You
And face what lies in store.
 
Matthew 23:37-39
“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! See, your house is left to you desolate. For I tell you, you will not see me again, until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’”