The arms of love
This begins with a breath From the waters you were blessed Pushing through the pain and blood Into the arms of love And your mother’s face above Before you came she was afraid In the night she cried and prayed Oh God am I strong enough, To be the arms of love To be the mother of this son O Beautiful one; My child my son We rejoice From generation To generation We rejoice All, like sheep, have gone astray But you will call them back one day By the marks of pain and blood Back to the arms of love; The good Father’s face above Psalm 131 (The Message) I haven't meddled where I had no business or fantasized grandiose plans. I've kept my feet on the ground, I've cultivated a quiet heart. Like a baby, content in it's mother's arms, my soul is a baby content. Wait, Israel, for God. Wait with hope. Hope now and hope always.
