Life does sometimes bring us to a place,
Where it seems to disappear every ounce of grace…
Where hope for a better future looks so small,
When woe and confusion seem to have their greatest toll.
Yet in the most hidden corridors of our hearts
The Scripture reminds us that all is for the good
Of those that yearn for God in the most private parts
And that the elect are always by trials pursued.
I thus shall not dwell on earth's injustices
But my hope invest in Christ
Who for all my sins atoned
And died on a tree far-off accursed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem