This was inspired while holding the precious little baby boy of some friends of mine, and seeing a physical manifestation of God’s glorious business of taking the ill and using it for good.
The darkest night, no morn in sight,
The sin which rent the soul apart,
When flesh seemed strong, oh how we longed,
For Christ to come and warm our hearts.
Did He delay? we could not see
His hand at work behind the cloud
Shortsighted, then we saw but darkness,
In which, it seemed, our souls were shroud.
A ray of light, had caught our sight,
When Hopelessness seemed all our lot
The sweetest tryst, was ours in Christ,
By His love, forsaken not.
What was for evil, this He took,
To show the power of His grace,
Though mist around us, seemed yet unclear,
The Sun of Glory showed His face.
Now you are here, I hold you near,
A wonder of the Maker’s hand,
You are the one, oh precious son,
The Father used to show His plan.
Though hard the sowing, in patience waiting,
Though hard the doubtings through the night,
What joys attended this our reaping,
As darkness yields to Morning light.