Ah sinking, fainting child of mine,
I hear your plaintive cry,
As there beneath the pressing loads,
Your bruised, weak form doth lie.
You think the promises are void;
No hope they will come true.
You feel as if ‘tis mockery
To trust in them anew.
You do not have the strength to call;
Your faith has been destroyed.
It seems another life when you
God’s promises enjoyed.
You cannot rise above the storm;
You cannot meet the need;
You cannot pass the stringent tests
Your Saviour hath decreed.
But child, the apple of God’s eye,
You are His constant care.
You are the one He’ll lift aloft
And on His shoulders bear.
He is your God in Heaven.
He is omniscient.
He is the great provider—
Your God omnipotent.