His Love

James A. Frost

Written by James A. Frost

There is naught but His love
in everything that comes to me.
No hand but His, No vagrant wind
blows my heart’s ship on it’s sea.
I am His, and He will never,
ever, let me go.*
Echo from His throne, and through
every cloud there’s always a rainbow.
I know that with every pelting storm
that comes, courage will be born within it.
Though dark may be the clouds, always,
his full orbed sun comes bursting through.
I hear the birds singing the majesty of You.
The lonely nights shall know His music.
He will make the stars shine.
Victory will always come, my face will
be wreathed in smiles, for He is mine.

View original writing

*John 10:28 says “…I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand.”