It's a distressing affliction,
People fallaciously confounding peace with the absence of trouble, oppression and persecution
As if God were not powerful enough to keep in perfect peace whose mind is set on Him;
Just enough to fulfill His every promise,
Spreading His wings,
Engulfing us in His shadow;
And wise enough to guide us through the refining fire of fleeting afflictions.
YOU ARE READING
Clay
PoetryA collection of poems flowing like a river from a heart made of clay, as it groans while being molded and when fired, screams in pain; yet rests in the knowledge that the Potter's handiwork will certainly be great.
