by Mary Mason
Sometimes our perfect little worlds
Are shaken, tossed about.
How did it happen? Why, Lord, why?
And questions foster doubt.
But, oh, I've found down through the years,
God's granary avails;
His funds are not depleted yet;
His larder never fails.
How many Israelites did God
Feed in the wilderness?
Did even one go wanting there?
God proved His faithfulness!
Do lilies face their world unclothed?
Do sparrows beg for bread?
Does God forget His chosen seed?
Is His hand limited?
He is my buckler and my shield;
His promises are true.
His covenants stand forevermore,
And what He says, He'll do!
The God of Daniel succors me;
He makes the crooked straight.
I'm graven in His precious hands
Till all things consummate.
He will not leave me, though my world
Lies groveling in the dust.
Job's God is still upon HIs throne;
And though He slay, I'll trust.
"To God only wise, be glory through Jesus Christ forever. Amen."
Romans 16:27
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