A faith like Abraham.
A trust that hopes in the grey and in the black.
Courage that bleeds joy and rejoices in the promises found in a tree.
Fear not! is the cry from an all powerful Father.
Stop doubting and believe! is the plea from a Son risen three days after.
My hands can feel like Thomas’, but my Savior’s mercy will patiently stand,
As I poke and push and feel His beaten brow and His holy hands.
“Try more!” will not be motto, rather my knees will know the floor.
Strength is not mine to offer.
I will boast in my weakness, so that He may be glorified all the more.