If you, LORD, withhold no good thing,
I must believe this present sting
Is evidence of providence,
A chance to give an offering.
My hopes and plans I humbly bring,
Releasing all, surrendering
To better sense your immanence
Within the shadow of your wing.
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To lose the world,
To gain one’s soul,
With sail unfurled,
And trust the wind
To bring you to the end.
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To be where one is present with no thought
For how one might escape the present state.
To hold that one is held when one feels caught.
To feel the urge to run yet still to wait.
To know that his provision is enough,
His grace sufficient for the task at hand.
To recognize the road indeed is rough
And follow still with faith in his command.
To seek his reign and righteousness above
The chasing of all momentary needs.
To trust that ev’ry test is ruled by love.
In darkest valleys, still the Shepherd leads.
From worry and comparison refrain;
His sov’reignty and purposes remain.
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What is God doing in my life? And why?
I know that he is good but do not know
What form his goodness in this time will take.
My sight is bound by barriers below.
I cannot feel the healing in the break.
Bear up, my soul. Remember all the ways
He proved his faithfulness in ev’ry test.
You do not need to see beyond the haze
In order to partake in perfect rest.
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Be still, and still be creature.
He still knows ev’ry feature of your soul.
Time is a trying teacher,
But tender is the one still in control.
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All things work for the good, you say.
I do not doubt the truth.
But shall I see the good one day,
Ever detect your better way
When circumstances ever lay
Before my doubtful heart a “may”
Which shakes the faith of youth
With fears I shudder to convey?
My mind is prone to wonder, though
I know you to be wise.
When progress on the road is slow,
When seasons threaten me with snow
Or desert heat, when all is woe –
God, how much further must I go?
My limits are my eyes.
I cannot see how I must grow.
Yet none can know your mind. You see
Past ev’ry fear I face.
So when I lose perspective, be
The peace amidst confusion, he
Whose presence makes the raging sea
A place of rest: tranquility
Of soul because of grace,
Enduring to eternity.
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Thanks to Montray for helping me title this poem.
We are living sacrifices
Still allowed to scream;
Not left to our own devices,
Still inspired to dream;
Free to choose in daily choices,
Held by sov’reignty;
Speaking with our mortal voices
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You give us the ability to give,
For all we have to give, in truth, is yours.
The very breath we breathe, the days we live,
Our daily bread — each comes from heaven’s stores.
Lord, let us not forget that all is grace,
That we have earned not one of all our joys,
And let us fix our eyes upon your face
Above all earthly troubles, tasks, and toys.
Forgive us when we want more than your love,
And fit us to receive and be content.
Yours is the universe and all thereof.
The proof of your provision is Advent.
In thanks, we rest and look toward the Son,
Dependent on the independent one.
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