A Mother’s Faith in the Face of Miscarriage

Little hands and little eyes
He struggles to survive
Many live but this one dies
Why Lord, can’t he be born alive?

The ways of God seem so strange
Will we ever comprehend?
We make our plans and then they change
When will the pain ever end?

No baby clothes and no little shoes
The cries that will never be
Though things seem bad: I still will choose
To trust the One who died for me

Little crystal drops He catches my tears
That last just for a season
And soothes my agonies and fears
Someday I’ll know the reason

The shield of faith I still must wear
When sorrow comes I know
He won’t give me more than I can bear
He promised me long ago.


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