By: carole l. haines
3 I thank my God in all my remembrance of you, 4 always offering prayer with joy in my every prayer for you all, 5 in view of your participation in the gospel from the first day until now. (Philippians 1:3-5 NASB)
O how I love these weeping trees, that sway before me as angel’s wings
And beckon me to “Come and See,” to sit and listen to My King
And find Him always here with me, though I, at times, may move away
He stills my heart in the throws of fear, and kisses me gently on my face
And isn’t it just like God to teach us the posture of prayer
Through the bowing of the trees, and shady places there
Beneath the trees of long ago, Our Savior prayed with earnest pleas
“If it is possible, O Father Mine, let this cup pass away from me!”
And so we come, beneath our own boughs,
alone ourselves, in the here and now
pleading for those we cherish, who do not know This Father’s Love
O how I love these weeping trees, bowing as if they pray with me
Their trunks, my legs, their roots, my knees
Seeking the face of the One who sees, the One who heals, the One who cares
And finding Him always, always there.
I here await His whispering voice, gentle as the summer breeze
Encouraging my heart bowed here, always drawing me ever near
Beneath these weeping trees
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