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Thy Will Not My Will
by
Alice C. Bateman
Thank you for this candle, Lord
This glass in which to place it
Thank you for each day that dawns
The strength with which to face it
And when this candle has burnt down
I can go get another
And if this glass should break, my Lord
I know there will be more
But when we lose a Daughter, Lord
A Grandchild or a Son
How can we then go to our rest
When each sad day is done
When the teardrops make a river
And the pain is very deep
We know they're Yours, our Father
Not ours alone to keep
But when our hearts are breaking
And when our souls are sore
Why don't You ever answer
When WE knock on your door
Perhaps WE need Eternal Rest
Not more pain every day
Why must this be a battle
Once more into the fray
Thy Will not my will
Thy Will not mine
The words I repeat
The few I can find
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