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Crepe myrtle’s blooming like it did that day
We spent time together…(then) you went away. . .
Th’ crepe myrtle’s bloom returns, but you do not . . .
God has you in Heaven, but I have naught—
“Life goes on,” or so they say . . . mine has not;
It’s on hold (for you), only baby girl I’ve got . . .
The days go by, then they just pass away—
Is my life on hold for that Glorious Day
When I’ll see you and My Lord face-to-face?
Until that day, am I marching-in-place?
What can God do with His child so broken?
Other lives produce; I’m just a token. . .
Seems all I’m able to do ev’ryday
Is grieve and love others who are th’ same way.
Yet the Lord reminds me in His Good Book . . .
He doesn’’t look at me th’ way others look—
His pow’r is made perfect in folks like me . . .
He’ll use my tears to fill Grief’s Salty Sea,
So, to sail His comfort in to stay with me. . .
He’ll turn my broken heart into His spout
To refresh us grievers, (He’ll) pour His love out.
He’ll use my empty life to shine His Light through
T’ breathe Light into Death’s darkness th’ whole Night through.
So baby girl, though you’ve been gone three years,
Our God is not surprised by your mommy’s tears.
He’s gotten me this far; He’ll get me through—
As you rest in His arms, I’ll rest in them, too!
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