Fret not
Hope,
Has nothing to do
With faith.
Belief,
Has nothing to do
With wishing.
What you know,
Is a fact,
Not a dream.
Why question fate,
When you've seen
Its face.
Why question the future,
When a promise
Has been made.
To be sure,
To be destined,
To be alive.
Why fault now,
When tomorrow
Is inevitable.
God says,
"My son,
Fret not"
I hear these words,
Always in my head,
But I struggle,
With believing.
I struggle,
Trusting more in what
I see,
The now.
But God says,
"My son,
Fret not"
The words get louder,
When I'm silent
In spirit.
But the voices
Rarely stops talking,
The voices
Don't fret.
They get louder,
Drowning those words,
Drowning solace.
But God says,
"My son,
Fret not"
Everyday,
I wake up
With decisions
To make.
Do I sit in
This lake,
Or swim my way
To shore.
Do I dwell
In the sinking sand,
Or grab hold
Of God's hands.
Everyday,
I say a prayer,
And let the storm
Do its thing.
Through it all,
God says,
"My son,
Fret not"
-TIM
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