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Thy Will Not My Will


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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