My Jesus Was Always There

Sometimes it is hard to at all understand,

Just what in dark trial my Lord may have planned:

How could He allow all the suff’ring and pain?

Why did He not stop all the anguish that rained?

So often I’ve stared within death’s darkest face,

Not knowing if morning my breath would still trace;

And one could well wonder, “Was God really there?

Did He even help in the midst of despair?”

My friend let me tell you in tones full of trust,

That “Jesus was there despite rubble and dust-

When dark death was lurking midst pain none can rate,

The power of God I cannot estimate!”

For it was my Jesus Who always was there-

He salvaged my life from the depth of despair;

Had He not have been there all hope would have fled:

For I would have perished - been found only dead!

He tenderly held me within His embrace-

Though crushed, bruised and bleeding, He offered His grace;

Although when in anguish one can’t understand-

Assured we can be that God has each life planned.

Christ picked up the ruins of agony, dark-

In love’s tender care He preserved my torn bark;

The tatters of agony, mixed He with gold,

Producing a vessel to use and to hold.

I praise my dear Savior that He understands-

For using torn pieces in His divine plans-

For salvaging life midst the ruins of pain-

For using the anguish for infinite gain!

For pain I do thank Him, and praise Him anew

For each darkened trial that He’s called me through;

I thank Him for using abuse so untold

To teach me His love as His purpose unfolds!

-Keturah