Dark clouds roll over the land.
Thunder rumbles across the hills.
The valleys tremble at the roar.
Drops of rain wash over the rocks.
I lift my head to the sky.
I fall on bended knee.
Anguish washes over me.
Wetness like rivers flow.
Tears fall from dim eyes.
My face is awash by the surge.
I lift my hands, asking why.
In the darkness, I am not alone.
There is one who walks with me.
He is acquainted with grief.
He sees my trembling heart.
His nail-pierced hands caress my face.
This Holy God sees me.
He cares deeply; he is with me.
His face shines upon mine.
He is called Prince of Peace.
Don’t despair is softly whispered.
He holds my tear-stained heart.
His tears fall and mix with mine.
He takes my face in his scarred hands.
This God-man Jesus leans in.
His eyes pierce mine with love.
He touches his forehead to my face.
He speaks love to my heart.
Child, I see every teardrop.
I can see all your pain.
You don’t see all I’m doing.
Trust my plan as I unfold your journey.
You see, dear loved one, I am working.
The storms break, and the winds blast you.
But your roots are buried deep.
You will bend, but I have prayed you won’t break.