Father of the curves and bends,
Maker of mountains and lover of all things new,
can we trust you with a feeble whisper?
We’ve stopped and realized our smallness.
We’re here and we’re racing through the “what ifs”.
What if she doesn’t get better?
What if the counseling doesn’t work?
What if our hands aren’t strong enough?
What if he doesn’t come home?
What if I become bitter not beautiful?
This is where we are and we haven’t been honest in a while.
We’re scared and we’re hoping you hear our midnight whisper.
So good Shepherd and strong Savior,
remind us of your brow.
Remind us how you took all anguish.
Remind us how you love to call us your kids.
Remind us that resurrection is real.
Remind us that hope is in your wounded hands.
Remind us that you rejoice when we come home.
You are the Good shepherd; you know every single sheep.
You lead us in green pastures; you don’t leave us in brown dust.
You love quiet waters; you rescue us from the falls.
You don’t forsake us in the valley’s; you protects us on all sides.
You don’t leave the table empty; you bring wine, and bread, and hope.
You follow us with love and mercy; you fend off wolves that take our peace.
You prepare our dwelling place; we’re not supposed to make our own.