So much trouble, pain and sorrow
Far more Mercy we can borrow
In spite of stumbles and mistakes
Thus no matter come what may
Hope will never lose its way
...and whithersoever He entered into villages, or cities or country,
they laid the sick in the streets
and besought him that they might touch if it were but the border of his garment:
and as many as touched Him were made whole
Mark 6: 56
The pain and plight of human fight can rouse a soulful
yen
To touch the Healer’s hemline and to be made whole again
The hearty ache of give and take in all its high and low
Can make us long for Something that this world cannot bestow
Life’s fragile cup o’ cheer we raise in praise to
happiness
Can spill and fill with storms that test the best of
humanness
But we are not alone; the stepping stones of day-to-day
Are each by grace allotted by the One who is our Stay
Uncertainty could drive us wild with fear of the Unknown
But Certainty of God-with-us grants courage to go on
Where what we hold is bound to change but Who holds us
does not
He never fails; through pain and plight of Numbered Day's
brief lot
How precious then the happiness that spills from Mercy's trays
In dear, breath-stealing ballads of life's ordinary days
Where swift, the gift of moments in a very subtle spree
Touches the tender ties that bind them into memory
How precious then the happiness that spills from Mercy's trays
In dear, breath-stealing ballads of life's ordinary days
Where swift, the gift of moments in a very subtle spree
Touches the tender ties that bind them into memory
© Janet Martin
How humbly precious then, are our happiness-es
Like this one:
"I peekin-'boos" Said little Girl when I showed her this photo
