From our soiled and sullied state
Beneath complaint we fume and fuss
And often under-estimate
The love our Father has for us
But blame Him when the wind blows ill
Not understanding His mercy
Nor perfect love that tunes His will
Beneath life’s toil and trouble weight
Of passion, pain, perplexity
Sometimes we under-estimate
Our Father’s love for you and me
© Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!