How many times I cry to You, and say, “Please help me, Lord"
I take Your time on little things that You can ill afford
When disasters of more urgent kind befall this broken world
And I, as selfish as I am, bewail a mislaid word
Or phone, or struggle on with some heavy, tiresome task
For now my strength is almost gone; it is too much to ask.
So I’ll ask Your peace to live with this, my slowness, loss of strength
My love for You is still intact and I’ll be with You at length
Now when I call I try to see the features of Your face
Yet it is enough that I should know Your mercy and Your Grace
While I still ask to dream of You and be close to You in sleep
Your Spirit’s deep within my heart and I know He’s mine to keep.
W.B June 2013.
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