When I go my way and I stumble to the ground,
During my pilgrimage, I get tripped up by worries.
That is when I cry out to the Almighty and He lifts me up,
He hears my pleas and He picks me up from despair.
When this world has broken me with its burdens,
When the sorrow of the world brings me down to the dust.
I lift my eyes to the King and He will remove my burden,
Joy will take away sorrow when I look upon my Savior.
So now I will give praise to the Lord who holds me,
I will give thanks to God for He saw me when I was low.
Sadness is turned to gladness when I see my King,
When I behold the Almighty, fear turns to courage.
Each day leaves markers of mystery, holy echoes of eternity. If we come with open hands, open hearts and receptive minds, we are in a good place to see and sense God’s footprints in the familiar, the way He frames each day with the supernatural.
Days when pain pervades stronger than before, weeks where weeping and weariness are our cloak and covering, we may fail to see God’s presence through the fog of our existence.
Yet it is there, in tiny threads weaving their way through each hour – grace glimmers shining like gold in the midst of life’s detritus.
It takes a willingness to expand our inner vision to heavenly hands holding us close. It takes a determination to want to rise above the dark cloud of our circumstances.
It takes faith and endurance and a deliberate seeking after joy when pain and grief sit heavy as stone…
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