Praise You When It's Dark

In a town torn by war and fear,
Families hid as danger drew near.
Huddled in caves, afraid to roam,
Longing for light, for peace, for home.

Children sighed and missed the day
when joy and laughter led their way.
Natania clung to Grandfather’s side,
"How long must we in darkness hide?"

"You said three days... it's been much more."
She stared in silence at the shelter door.
“Shall we make a wish list?” he softly said.
She nodded, leaning near his bed.

“I want to run beneath the sun,
to laugh, to play, to simply have fun.
I want my bed, a pillow, light
a glass of milk to warm the night.”

He smiled, though weak, and gently spoke,
“When things are dark, we sing we hope.
As it is written,” he softly said,
His voice like comfort beside her bed:

“In the Scriptures Acts 16:22–26
Paul and Silas were beaten and bound
In chains, in prison, behind cold stone
Yet still they praised the Lord alone.

‘And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed,
and sang praises unto God,’ unafraid.
The prisoners listened in the gloom,
as praises filled the prison room.

Then came a quake the prison shook,
the doors flew wide, the chains unhooked!
‘Every one’s bands were loosed,’ it’s said
and all walked free, no fear, no dread.”

“Will God send angels if I sing?”
She asked, her voice a trembling thing.
“He might,” said Grandfather. “If  He saved them,
He'll hear you too just sing again.”

So day by day, though hunger grew,
the little girl sang soft and true.
“Wake up, Grandfather,” she would say,
“Let’s sing so angels find our way.”

“Don’t stop,” he whispered, voice like dust,
“Just sing, and in the Lord we trust.”

Meanwhile, a rescue team pressed on,
through broken ground from dusk till dawn.
A soldier paused, his heart turned still
“I hear a song... so faint, so real.”

They followed hope through dirt and stone,
a child’s voice so soft, alone.
And when they found her, weak but bright,
still singing gently through the night

She smiled and whispered, “Look, they came
the angels knew my voice by name.”

They lifted her and Grandpa slow,
with tears of thanks that soon did flow.
“Give praise to God,” the old man said.
She bowed her heart, then raised her head

And sang once more with all her love,
to her faithful God above.

The Stranger from the Past

Years had passed and then they met again.
He saw a face once dear, now strange and so did she, in equal range.
Their faces blank, no hint of feeling there,
their voices curt, stripped of warmth or care.

Martha turned, she walked away,
her head reeling from that strain that day.
She traced the path she came along,
Her mind  wandered back to youthful days.

She saw again his bright, bright smile,
His teasing eyes that stayed awhile.
We’d chosen paths, had gone our ways,
but still, unease within remains.

"Some friendships fade like morning dew,"
The emptiness in that relationship simply cannot be renewed.

Thank you, God, my friend so true,
who stays when all have walked from view.
Who'll never leave, nor turn away,
but holds me close, both night and day.
You lift me up, you help me stand 
you uphold me with your righteous right hand.    (Isaiah 41:10)

Same God

She walked alone, eyes to the ground,

No smile, no voice, no joyful sound.

A life withdrawn, a soul crushed low,

A spirit lost, with nowhere to go.

She’d breeze through days in pin-drop silence,

Dead to all, yet still existing

Like a shadow quickly swept away,

She lived unseen, day after day.

One fateful slip, a sudden fall,

She lay in pain, no strength to call.

But just nearby, a door swung wide

Mrs Mary came like an angel in disguise.

With steady hands and quiet grace,

She soothed the pain from the girl’s face.

She wrapped her leg and brewed warm tea,

A simple act of empathy.

The silence broke, the tears tumbled down

Years of sorrow finally unbound.

“Oh child,” said Mary, “cry no more,

Christ still stands at every door.

‘Come to me,’ He calls the worn

the burdened, lost, the soul forlorn.

He gives us rest, He makes us whole,

Restores the heart, revives the soul.”               (Math 11:28)

The same God who called forth life once gone,

Who raised up Lazarus with His song,

Who heals, restores, and makes things new

That same God will come through for you.      (John 11:44)

She bowed her head, released her past,

And found true peace and hope at last.

“My life, O Lord, I give to you

Let me be yours in everything I do.”

 

All Things Are Possible to Him Who Believes

"All things are possible—just believe,"

He whispered softly, seeking reprieve.
Bills piled high, the orders few,
Seven mouths to feed, yet nothing new.

Tossing, turning through the night,
Weighed by worry, drained of fight.
Frustration rose, he turned on the light,
"Lord, what should I do?" he cried.
"I've tried it all, I've fought, I've tried."

His weary eyes, with doubt still lined,
Fell on the words he'd read a thousand times—

23 Jesus said unto him, If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth.  mark 9:23 KJV

The words now echoed, clear to see.

He let his thoughts drift back in time,
Scenes of childhood, sweet, sublime.
Though his parents had been poor,
They never lacked, though they slept on the floor.

Then came a spark—so warm, so true,
A memory bright and clear in view.
"If it worked for Mother, it will work for me too!"
Nine kids she raised, strong and wise,
With bread and cakes, she filled their lives.

Up to the attic, he climbed with care,
Dust in the air, but hope was there.
Through tattered pages, aged yet sound,
His mother’s treasured notes he found.

With love, he glued each recipe tight,
Kissed the book, then worked through the night.
And lo! By dawn, the ovens burned bright,
The bakery doors swung open to the light.

The townspeople lined from far and wide,
Drawn by whispers that spread overnight.
Bread and cakes, warm and sweet,
Sold before they left the heat.

Tears of thanks, a whispered word,
"Thank you, Lord, for prayers heard.
You lit my night, you made me see,
That faith will always carry me."

The Cave of Faith

“Lord,” she whispered, “I am bound,
in this cave where shadows surround.
The enemy prowls with a hunter’s might,
each step he takes steals my joy and light.

But then, that night, a vision lit her dreams—
Of Daniel in the lions' den, it seemed.
The angels stood guard with wings stretched wide,
And Daniel rose—alive, unmoved, and revived.

Her heart surged with courage, her spirit restored.
She whispered, "Not from the lion, but from this brute,"
Her trembling voice, though soft, was resolute.
The verses lingered, her hope took flight,
clinging to faith in the dead of night.

Her prayer held firm, her spirit renewed.
The enemy’s words—sharp and crude—
fell on deaf ears as she learned to exude
a quiet strength, her joy imbued.

Through storms she walked, unbent, unshaken,
her heart a flame no fear could weaken.
With every step, her soul proclaimed:
The light within would not be tamed.

“God’s angels will hold back his filthy hand,
Not a finger will touch me; by faith, I stand.”
She prayed, she cried, she knelt in the dark,
But the brute’s threats couldn’t pierce her heart.

"For Daniel, a moment; for me, such delay,
From fear to faith, the journey so slow,
Yet even Goliath fell with a single blow that day."

---

Then one day, as he came with a knife in his hand,
she shut her eyes and made her final stand:
"Into Your hands, my spirit I give;
if this be my end, let it be Thy will."

The sound of glass—a deafening crash—
the brute tripped on an empty bottle, fell hard.
The knife flew from his hand, spinning around,
Landing on his chest with a deadly sound.

With one swift stroke, he met his end,
her days of nightmare came to an end,
and freedom’s light began to ascend.

She opened her eyes—could it be real?
The tyrant lay fallen, his body still.
The blood on the floor, the silence, the peace,
a weeping whisper—“Your mercies don’t cease.”

On wobbling legs, with hands raised high,
she praised her God beneath the desert sky.
Through sand and stone, she stumbled her way,
to freedom’s light—the breaking of day.

---

A man on a camel, a helper so kind,
He listened, he believed—God’s rescue designed.
The authorities came, the enemy’s body was found,
the woman returned to her home, alive, joyful, and whole.

Numbers 23:19 Complete Jewish Bible:
“God is not a human who lies,
or a mortal who changes his mind.
When He says something, He will do it;
When He makes a promise, He will fulfil it.”

And so her story, now whispered and known,
is a hymn of rescue, of strength He’s shown.
For faith, though tested, is never in vain,
And God’s deliverance will always remain.

 

Sheltered in the Storm

Running from his enemies,
Fleeing from foes, David prayed,
"Your grace has brought me here, O Lord;
My enemies are many, ruthless and strong,
Yet, in Your word, I find my song."

Psalms 86:14-17 (CJB)
God, arrogant men are rising against me,
a gang of brutes is seeking my life,
and to you they pay no attention.
But you, Adonai,
are a merciful, compassionate God,
slow to anger
and rich in grace and truth.
Turn to me, and show me your favor;
strengthen your servant, save your slave-girl’s son.
Give me a sign of your favor,
so that those who hate me
will see it and be ashamed,
because you, ADONAI,
have helped and comforted me.

But they will not prevail, for Your word says:
Isaiah 54:17 (CJB)
No weapon made will prevail against you.
In court you will refute every accusation.
The servants of ADONAI inherit all this;
the reward for their righteousness is from me,”

Your promise alone is my guide—
You have chosen me to sit on Your throne,
And my kingdom will be forever.

2 Samuel 7:16-17 (Amplified Bible)
Your house (royal dynasty) and your kingdom will endure forever before Me;
your throne will be established forever.”

I trust in Your word, forever true,
And though I wait, I hold on still.
If You have spoken it, so it shall be;
Your promises endure eternally.

Romans 8:31 (CJB)
What, then, are we to say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?

All things work together for good

In stillness stood young Alona, clasped a parcel tight, A ghost from distant shadows, in morning’s tender light.

“It’s back!” she gasped, disbelief coursed through her veins,

The promise of a publisher turned bitter with disdain.

Months of toil, sleepless nights, her dreams now cast aside,
A manuscript of passion, now swallowed by the tide.
Back to her shelves she turned, to dust and deep regret,
Another tale of failure, another loss to fret.

“Disappointments, they are countless,” she murmured, heart in pain,
“But why, oh why, does hurt return like whispers in the rain?”
“Am I to be a writer?” echoed in her mind,
Each setback felt like shackles, each doubt a tethered bind.

“Come with me to the village,” her father gently said,
“To breathe beyond the pages, let the weight of worry shed.”
And so they left at dawn’s first light, through fields so rich and green,
But fate, it wove a twisted thread; they knew not what it meant.

A message swift as arrows, their home now cloaked in flame,
Neighbors gathered, valiant hearts, yet much was lost to shame.
Panic seized their weary souls as flames danced wild and high,
But among the ruins, a hidden chance lay low.

For in the chaos, manuscripts, once deemed as dreams denied,
Caught the eye of fortune’s friend, a publisher’s swift stride.
“Gems!” he cried, “these stories, why were they not seen before?
So much potential waits within, a treasure to explore.”

“What kept her from her fortune?” the neighbor then explained,
“Each time she sought a pathway, another heartache claimed.”
“Perhaps divine design,” he said with hopeful gleam,
“Is why the world awaits her words, to weave a brighter dream.”

And as they reached their scorched abode, with worry turned to cheer,
The agent placed in Alona’s hands a future bright and clear.
Tears streamed down her radiant face, her heart began to sing,
“All things work together for good—this joy that faith can bring.”

In loss, she found her purpose, in ashes, rise anew,
For every page unwritten, there lies a story true.
Alona’s heart, once heavy, now danced in sweet delight,
A tale of hope and beauty, emerging from the night.

Romans 8:28 CJB

²⁸ Furthermore, we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called in accordance with his purpose;

Ecclesiastes 3:11 CJB

¹¹ He has made everything suited to its time; also, he has given human beings an awareness of eternity; but in such a way that they can’t fully comprehend, from beginning to end, the things God does.

Psalms 27:13-14 CJB

¹³ If I hadn’t believed that I would see
Adonai’s goodness in the land of the living, . . .
¹⁴ Put your hope in Adonai, be strong,
and let your heart take courage!
Yes, put your hope in Adonai!

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