Above this fretting sphere
Above this maddened din of strife
Someone beholds each tear
Within the mocking dark
Where demons of regret
Would rob us of strength to press on
One remains faithful yet
The anguish that we clench
Does not escape His will
He plants His comfort in despair
And whispers, peace, be still
From far off we have seen
Though not as yet received
But you have promised, not by sight
We never cry alone
Each teardrop that we weep
Falls where the One who loves us so
Cradles them in His keep
© Janet Martin
Psalm 56:8
You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?
You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?
Do you ever feel like you pray and shed tears over the same pleas, again and again and again, yet do not receive?
"Hear my prayer, O LORD, and give ear to my cry; hold
not your peace at my tears! For I am a sojourner with you, a guest, like
all my fathers. Ps.39:12
These all died in faith, not having received the
things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and
having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. Heb. 11:13
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!