I come before the great I Am

When I am insecure 

He is the Rock, his works are perfect,

And of this I am sure 

He is the one who holds me

And truly, deeply knows me 

He made me and He loves me 

What should I doubt him for?

The fields lie in slumber, the vine cut back to root,

her branches are a memory, no sign of leaf or fruit.

The winter sets in cold, with sheets of glistening frost,

all is still and quiet, the summer sun long lost.

I walk with grief and grief walks with me

sometimes I swim in it

I’m stuck

Drowning

Stuck in these feelings that I can’t reconcile

Between the what I have and what’s to come

Sorrow blossoming into empathy and compassion

Able to hold others sorrow

While learning to live amongst my own