But This We Know...

So little do we really know

Of He who makes the seed to grow

Drawing a garden from the mud

And fragrant flowers from a bud

So little can we ever tell

Of He who stands twixt heav’n and hell

Pleading in patient mercy-flood

For all to be washed in His blood

So little do we know of Him

Who, as the dirge of dusk grows dim

Abides in darkness as in light

And nothing blots us from His sight

So little can we understand

Of He who holds us in His hand

Though fiends of sin and hell assail

His love is sure and will not fail

So little can we ever grasp

Of eons beyond Time’s swift gasp

But this we know; His Word is sure

And in His love we are secure

© Janet Martin

Our thoughts and prayers are with those in Boston.