Here is a poem inspired by that powerful and beautiful sentiment.
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When the path ahead is lost from sight, And shadows stretch to steal the light, When strength has fled,and hope feels thin, A quiet voice begins within.
It does not shout, it does not break, A simple promise it does make: “The mountain high,the valley low, The way you do not,cannot know— These are not walls to hold you fast, But journeys meant for you to pass.”
For what seems locked, with rusted chain, What whispers of enduring pain, What logic says can never be, Is just a leaf on a boundless tree. The hand that spun the stars in place, Can turn the tides of time and space, And with a love that has no end, Can broken pieces gently mend.
So I will walk, and not despair, Held by a grace beyond compare. For through my doubt,through fear and fall, I trust the One who knows it all. The God of oceans,skies, and sod, Makes all things possible through love.
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