"Father, I'm lost," the child cried.
She was weary, tempest-tossed, and worn.
"Where is hope I've had inside?
Where have you been midst the days of hate and scorn?"
The tears fell fast; the child cried;
The Father who held her was gentle and kind.
"Where are you, Father? Whose am I?"
"I am here, sweet child. You are Mine."
The child was lost no longer -- hope had returned!
The Father had claimed her as His own.
She felt free as within her His Spirit burned --
"I," said she, "was never alone."
Yes, the child was no longer lost --
No longer faced trials of fear and dread,
No longer felt worn and tempest-tossed.
She felt hope at last burn within instead.
~ H. Paige Edwards
November 30th, 2014
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