Sometimes at our lowest points in life a pen and some paper can be the greatest gift from God.
My heart is down trodden and my back is against the wall
No one to bring comfort, no not one at all
How frail life seems when all hope is growing faint
Everyone makes it a point to steer clear of an afflicted saint.
Not knowing what blessing lies in helping someone in need
Whether its clothing, a kind word, or a belly to feed
Oh, how miserable life seems when your poor and unwanted
When your the butt of everyone's jokes and constantly taunted
NO one stops to think that the Almighty GOD sees
And HE will stand up for HIS afflicted ones and Judge Righteously.
But as it was with Job, in the end it shall be told
GOD will bless me for my suffering a hundred fold
So I wait for the Lord's stength, His Glory and His Power
His Love is my refuge, His mercy a strong tower.
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Annzetta, long title, but beautiful, moving poem. With love, Deb
What God given talent you have my sister in Christ Jesus....Beautifully Written!!
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