Your Hand In the Fog

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I know you have plans for me

I know your plans are good

I try to trace your working hand

But sometimes it hidden in fog

Clouds of fog close around me

I beg to see your hand for a moment

I beg to see your plans for me

The chaos and noise threatens

Threatens to drown out your voice

Gently you speak, wait my child

Trust my hand is there in the fog

Trust I am working steadily

Though you may see nothing at times

So I put my trust in my faithful God

The one who always keeps his promises

The one who can see when I can’t

The one who’s plans are greater then mine

The one who battles His plans for me in Heaven’s courts

The one who turns my suffering into beauty

So I’ll follow patiently on through the fog

I’ll trust he’s working in the silence!

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Sweet Fragrance From The Scar

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I held a flow’r, I let it go

It fell softly to the ground

Forgotten it laid there all alone

Soon crushed by a hurried shoe

Delicate petals broken and bruised

Softly came the footprints of a child

Folks hurried not noticing the flow’r

But the child trotting, eyes to the ground

He let out a squeal and gently grasped it

Mommy, mommy, a pretty flow’r

She turned to see it bruised and broken

Son, it’s dirty, broken and no good

But Mommy, it smells so much sweeter

He softly touched the scars on the petals

There from the scar the sweet fragrance came

With the gentlest of hands he tucked it in his pocket.

So take heart pilgrims struggling and broken

Beauty still abides in the imperfect and broken