Holding Our Hand
Before a tear can fall from cheek to chin,
Our Father reaches out His hand,
To touch our soul and let the healing begin,
In way we may not understand.
Before the pain can bring us to our knees,
He's already there - at our side -
There in the midst of our catastrophes,
A healing balm is being applied.
We're all the same, in the midst of our pain,
It's so hard to feel the Master's touch.
We only feel the flame and the weight of the chain,
Which is why we may complain so much.
But, before that tear can roll from chin to chest,
Our Father's hand is already there.
To comfort our souls - and to give us rest,
Even though we may be unaware.
When the pain subsides, and we've made it through,
We may think we did it on our own.
When our tears have dried, like the morning dew,
He sits there - smiling, upon his throne.
Yes - we may look back and see a single track,
Of footprints - let there in the sand.
Perhaps unaware, as we look back,
That the Master has been holding our hand.
Glory be to God!
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