The enemy is ever pressing in.
I have given ground again and again.
He is crafty and persistent.
Where are you, Warrior King?
Shadows are long and dark.
The silence is deafening.
The emptiness consuming.
Where are you, Redeemer?
My thoughts are turbulent and wild.
I find no lasting rest in solitude.
There is no peace in a crowd.
Where are you, Comfortor?
My life is broken and destitute.
What good can possibly remain?
What eternal purpose can be served?
Where are you, Creator?
Yet my eyes look to the Lord!
His mercies are unmatched and unending.
His grace and righteousness fulfilling.
He lifts up the lowly as princes!
He restores the lost as sons!
Who can know his purposes?
Who can comprehend his ways?
Who can imagine the depths of his great love?
I have found you, Father.
. . .
