My Winter's Failure
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I'm so tired of my bosom's cold
I have had since mid-Spring.
My folly left me frail and old;
destroyed by my own sting.
I then remembered the warmth of Grace,
everlasting Spring of the Lord.
I feared never seeing His good face;
Hope seemed empty as a gourd.
My weeping was heard as if prayers;
my head was lifted up toward the Sun.
Melting away were frozen fears;
again with Him, I am one.
My joy's renewed through repentance;
it is Summer, here in my heart.
I'm delighting in my obedience
Winter has failed, once torn apart.
I can keep Summer in my heart,
mixing it with His promise.
The rains of grace come to impart
the nature of the Lord, who is Jesus.
© Bob Barra, 12-19-2012
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