I heard it said by a poet,
That loss is like a turbulent sea,
That rushes in waves every morning and eve',
Over you and over me.
Each day we're reminded of the ones we lost to the sea,
In sadness and in grief of what life was supposed to be,
But in the sea, with waves that crash up higher, and higher, surrounding me,
Is a hope that transcends this world's view of joy, peace, and tranquility.
So even when the waves try to knock me off my feet,
I will remember I have a rock that steadies me underneath,
His name is Jesus, and he is my hope and my strength,
When all seems lost, when my heart and soul feel like glass,
Fragile and broken.
He holds the pieces.
And He takes the pieces, that are broken into dust,
And makes something new,
He turns my chaos into order,
My weeping into dancing,
My mourning into gladness,
Until the soul ceases its turbulence and gives into the rest found only in Jesus,
And even then He will hold my pieces,
But now they will be whole and complete through the power of his healing.
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