Monday, May 21, 2007

Standing in the desert 

Here I am, Lord,
Standing in the desert,
Uncertain of the path,
Always, I am sure,
safely in your hand,
even as the dusty winds blow,
hiding my way.

As I walk through this valley
my view blocked by the mountains casting gray shadows,
I will not fear what those shadows hide,
for you are,
and have always been, my guide.

In my smallness,
in my uncertainty and pain,
I will cling to your promises,
this day, and always,

Susan E. Stone, 2007

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Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Walking Through the Shadows 

Walking through the shadows,
A valley dark and deep,
It's hard to see a safety zone,
A place where I might sleep,
And yet I know you're with me,
You are my only light
When shadows seem like midnight,
Your touch will give me sight.

Walking through the shadows,
I cannot see ahead,
I do not know the pitfalls,
But I know where I am led.
You call me now to follow,
And follow you I try,
O lift me when I stumble,
O hear me when I cry.

Walking through the shadows,
In a land that's dark with pain,
Scarred with the hand of Eve's wrong choice,
Scarred with the mark of Cain,
I think of how you loved enough
To walk our weary ways,
To taste our grief, to know our pain,
The dust of all our days.

Walking through the shadows
You felt the weight of sin -
One night in spring beneath the trees,
You took our darkness in,
Took it all the way to death,
And transformed the dark to light,
And called us all to follow you
To leave this angry night.

Walking in the shadows,
I am a pilgrim here,
And through your healing touch, O Lord,
I will not walk with fear,
For you are there beside me
To share this shadowed way,
And you will guide my steps at last
To the place night cannot stay.

Susan E. Stone, 2007

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Thursday, May 11, 2006

The Pilgrim's Journey Home 

The sun sinks low near the end of the day
As my weary back bends beneath its load.
My mind is filled with sweet thoughts of home
That waits for me at the end of the road.

At times each step seems so hard to take,
My hands do shake and my knees grow weak,
Yet far ahead the road leads on,
To the place I go, to the home I seek.

Some may think that I walk in vain,
Step after step on this pilgrim's way,
They think me foolish for what I do,
Glance while I pass, and then turn away.

And yet they wonder where comes the strength
To love when others would choose to hate,
To ease the pain of another's load,
To try when others curse their fate.

It is not I who can do this thing,
It is not I who is strong, you see --
The joy, the peace, the strength within
To take each step, it is not me.

It only looks like I walk alone,
Another carries me along the way.
He gave his life to set me free
And brings me home at the end of the day.

O Jesus, you whisper into my heart
The words of life that set me free,
Your arms are strength where I am weak,
When I fall down you carry me.

And though the valley ahead seems dark,
O Good Shepherd you comfort me,
It will be but the pathway home,
And where you lead, I long to be.

To the Tune of Lord Franklin.
(midi of the tune can be found here:

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Sunday, March 05, 2006

In the Valley of the Shadow of Death 

There in the Valley of the Shadow of Death,
Where God takes us to learn about who gives us breath
Each step that we take may seem heavy with threat
As we face then the truths we would rather forget.

It does not matter if we laugh or weep,
Be in pain or shock or fear or sleep,
Eternity hovers but a moment away
To walk with us into that unending day.

We think that so often we stand in the sun,
Yet through that dark valley our footsteps did run.
Someone was there one moment and not the next,
This frailty of mankind is an ancient text.

Yet Valley of the Shadow, when I'm in your way,
I chose not fear you by night or by day,
Ambush or pain or dark uncertainty
Shall not hide the gift of light by which I see.

My Shepherd he leads me by day and by night
Through the darkness of death to his glorious sight -
In his hand is the peace that makes no worldly sense
When the shadows of midnight grow dark and dense.

If trembling I wait there between death and life,
Doubled over in pain cutting hard like a knife,
He still is my comfort and lets my heart see
I am in his hands whatever will be.

Valley of the Shadow, you are but a gate,
Doorway to tomorrow, all humankind's fate.
My final hope lies beyond your shadowed door,
Where I will dwell in my Lord's house forever more.

Susan E. Stone, 2006

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Thursday, January 26, 2006

Valley of the Shadow of Death (1) 

O Valley of the Shadow of Death
where we face the ultimate reality
of how frail our life is,
how near eternity is
at any minute,
coming in pain or shock or fear or sleep,
suddenly there one moment
and not the next,
we think so often we stand in the sun
when we are walking down your narrow path.

O Valley of the Shadow of Death,
in your dark paths,
I shall not fear --
neither ambush,
nor pain,
nor uncertainty,
for the light hidden in you is so bright
there are no words.
He is with me,
My shepherd,
my Lord,
my God
even as I lay trembling
waiting to know if my tomorrow will come.
In his hand is the peace
that makes no sense,
but is sense indeed,
and when the pain and confusion come,
and I do not know what is next,
he comforts me.

Valley of the Shadow of Death,
Gateway into tomorrow,
I will not fear you,
for you open to me my final hope.
May I dwell in the house of my Lord forever,

Susan E. Stone, 2006

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Monday, July 07, 2003

Some days

Some days it seems so confusing, Lord,
and I don't know where to turn,
or what to do,
or what to feel.

Those days, it's like I'm stepping out,
blindfolded, on a high wire
over an abbyss.

And yet I know,
it is you who hold my hand
and guide my feet.

Some days, it feels
that life is bitter dust,
drying out my mouth as the desert sun
beats down on my shoulders,
and even your name becomes
hard to pronounce from sunblistered lips,

But even then I know
you are quenching my thirst
with hidden springs
of unseen water.

When I walk through the valley of the shadow,
Bring to mind the memory of how you too
suffered and thirsted and felt abandoned,
to remind me that yes, you know what it feels like;
in your suffering, may I always find the balm
that makes my darkness
til I cross the desert
and find again the green pastures.

Susan E. Stone © 2003

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