A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

These lines were born in a season of quiet trial, as I walk beside my beloved mother through the shadowed valley of sickness and pain. In these days we cling to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

We rest in the certainty that He who did not spare His own Son but gave Him up for us all will, in His perfect wisdom, either heal in time or perfect in eternity—making every affliction serve His redemptive purpose and turning even this present suffering into a deeper fellowship with the Man of Sorrows. His mercy is both tender and triumphant; His compassions fail not; and His victory over sin, sickness, and death is already secured at the cross and will be fully revealed when every tear is wiped away.

May these verses, written in the crucible of shared suffering, point your heart toward that same unfailing Mercy and steadfast Hope.

With hope in Christ,

The Poet

2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.

Romans 8:32

He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?

Lamentations 3:22-23

It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.

Revelation 21:4

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

Psalm 46:1

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

Psalm 91:1-2

He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.

Psalm 119:50

This is my comfort in my affliction: for thy word hath quickened me.

Psalm 94:19

In the multitude of my thoughts within me thy comforts delight my soul.

O God of all comfort, whose mercies endure

Like dawn’s golden fingers that part the night’s veil,

When tempests of sorrow crash wild on the shore

And hearts, heavy-laden, in darkness grow pale—

Thou art the still waters that quiet the deep,

The conquering balm that shall close every wound;

In time or eternity none shalt Thou keep

Unhealed—Thy voice is the south wind unbound.

In valleys of shadow, where thorns crowd the way

And thunderheads gather with fury untamed,

Thy light is the lantern that turns night to day,

Thy hand is the harbor no tempest has claimed.

As dew on the lilies, as oil on the sea,

As manna that falls when the wilderness cries,

Thy comfort descends, pure, boundless, and free—

A river of mercy that never runs dry.

So lift we our eyes to the hills of Thy grace,

Where covenants of promise still shine after rain;

O God of all comfort, in Thee is our place—

Thy tender mercy conquers sickness and pain,

Soft as the morning, yet mighty to reign,

Till every affliction is forever made whole.