I’m angry. I feel abandoned.

I’m sad. How can my dear, dear friend have died so suddenly this week? Weren’t we just laughing and talking a few minutes ago?

I’m heart-broken. My homeland, Lebanon, is being torn to shreds. The blindness, the prejudice, the hatred is demolishing our families’ hearts’ desires.

I’m frustrated. Inept, ego-driven officials seem to have control.

I woke up the morning after my friend left this world with an old, old hymn in my head, Precious Lord, Take my hand. Those are all the words I have this week.

Can we please love?

Precious Lord, take my hand,

Lead me on, help me stand.

I am tired, I am weak, I am worn.

Through the storm, through the night,

Lead me on, to the light.

Take my hand, precious Lord,

Lead me home.

When my way grows drear,

Precious Lord, linger near.

When my life is almost gone,

Hear my cry, hear my call,

Hold my hand, lest I fall.

Take my hand, precious Lord,

Lead me home.

 

Precious Lord

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This