Barbwire roll


By David De Jong

17. Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, 18. yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. Habakkuk 3:17-18 NIV

My bones cried in misery,
My eyes ached, wretched with fear.
My heart felt the distinctly
Sharp, plunging tip of the spear.

My lungs wheezed in agony,
Each gasp seemed a useless waste.
Blood spilled out in symphony,
With a cold, salty-sweat taste.

Flames charred deep, burning each breath.
Daylight left and shunned my face.
You took them, sparing my death,
Erased it all, by Your grace.

When I find myself empty;
Restless, unable to cope:
I will rest my soul in Thee;
My Savior, Eternal Hope.

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