Good hope

The days are dark with fear and dread.

My life is cursed, so it's been said

By those who stroll the farther side,

Who called, "My friend," through lips that lied.


My strength is weak, I hardly see

The love from Him who died for me.

For me? Such things do not ring true

In desperate hearts all torn in two,


Where dreams of happiness seem lost,

Where each step seems not worth the cost.

My strength has failed, I cannot see

The love from Him who died for me.


Yet deep within my soul there lives

The presence of a hope that gives

Some bit of faith I can't deny,

No matter if or how I try.

My strength is gone, how do I see

The love from Him who died for me?

And then a thought, not from but of

Is how we come to find His love.


This from leads to what "I" demand.

I could not know or understand

His strength is near, nor could I see

The love from Him who died for me.


It's in the of where I will find

He lives within my heart and mind,

To lead me through this darkest night

And to good hope beyond my sight.


His strength's enough, and now I see

The love... of... Him who died for me.


Chuck Graham

~ 2008 ~