Like children who have lost their way Alone and comfortless we wander. Stumbling through woods that grow deep and ever darker, With no direction, we cry for help And hear our pleas echo through the canyons. Is there anyone who can hear us? Then, like a rushing wind, a voice whispers to our heart. And through tear-filled eyes, we see an outstretched hand, There to lead us home. Though swirling streams may block our way And slippery stones betray our feet He leads us on. He knows the way, His feet are sure, And in Him we find safe passage.
by Greg Olsen