I bow my head and fold my hands.
My faithful Father understands
the depths of my great sorrows.
With my heart's cord
I beg the Lord
to fix all my tomorrows.
He knows it's bad.
His heart is sad.
All Heaven mourns for me.
But if God's will
is that I'm ill,
then it was meant to be.
Some do attest
God takes the best
away from evil earth.
But problem's this:
that I will miss
my child's tremendous worth.
We all will die
and so I cry,
but through storms, I still bow.
Should time be up,
Lord, take my cup.
in peace, for You know how.
You've let me stay
another day
to spend with my dear child.
And that is why
now tears are dry.
Through blessings - I have smiled.
But if Your will
should take me still
then I will gladly go;
no more to roam,
I'll be at home
with You, who loves me so.
©2022 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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