This trouble from which I run — you made it for me.
The mire from which I seek to rise — made by you.
How will you rescue me? Let me trust that it will come.
Grant me eyes to see, Lord, your hand in even that which I would flee.
(Letter #3,948)
Daily Letters to God
This trouble from which I run — you made it for me.
The mire from which I seek to rise — made by you.
How will you rescue me? Let me trust that it will come.
Grant me eyes to see, Lord, your hand in even that which I would flee.
(Letter #3,948)