words to His afflicted
©10-5-14 hannah mclean
whom storms have tossed
and whose tired hands
have failed to find comfort
in your struggles
caught your tears
and heard your fighting gasps
with every breath filled with wonder
with pangs and fears you've felt alone
wisdom stood, unseen beside you
while holy hands, unseen, have honed
My dear afflicted child
you are the temple where I dwell
and it is I who bring your beauty
I have laid beneath your feet
a foundation
that will not shake
on which I’ve fashioned walls
that will not fall
and raised up pinnacles
that will not topple
and I have filled you
with My all
whom storms have tossed
and whose tired hands
have failed to find comfort
for if you, with hanging head
would open up your eyes
to look upon your feet
you would see what the pains
of life have borne you
and climbing up your walls
and set upon your pinnacles
I am covering you,
my beautiful dwelling place,
with precious stones
My dear afflicted child
you are the temple where I dwell
and it is I who bring your beauty
1 comment:
Amen.
Post a Comment