| Struggles |
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If I were God, I can safely say 'No child, on a bed of affliction, would lay. No mother would grieve near a mound of sod, Because her son had returned to God. No anxious father the way would watch, And, surely, I would avoid a cross.' But, what then, dear heart: if our skies were all blue, No struggle, no triumphs, no good deed to do, No exercises in how to hold on, No miracles coming, no travail song? He knows our deep need. He watches with care, Listening, intently, for our chocking prayer. He is able and willing to give angels delight, And send them to help us on any dark night! |
| © 2003 by Joan Clifton Costner |
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