When we have run our best race

Fought our best fight

Given our best arguments

When all the prayers have been said

And said again

The frustrations expressed

The fears named

The anxieties rehearsed

And when we haven’t had the energy to do even this


Though still in the place of waiting to see

The cloud of unknowing

The fog of uncertainty

Where nothing is clear

And doubts spring like rabbits in the grassy fields of the mind


We may have to let go

Take such a break as we can

Becoming present to what is

And trusting somehow 

In the value of the next breath

In the refuge of the night

The gift of the sunrise

The pulse of faith that beats faintly

Independently of will 

Rocking us gently 

A lullaby of home 

In the shelter of everlasting arms.  

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