Is There Any Way?

The night is black, Father; the stars are blind;
And on the path I tread, the way is hard to find.
It’s hard to walk, Father; the wind is cold;
And it torments my heart that there is no hand to hold.
Is there any way that You could find me here?
Is there any way . . . ?
My hope is dead, Father; my faith is weak;
And as I stumble on, the pathway looks so bleak.
My feet, they bleed, Father; my tears, they fall,
And they tumble untouched with no relief at all.
Is there any way You could stop the flow?
Is there any way . . . ?
I glimpse a spark, Father, a light above;
As weakness overwhelms, I feel Your touch of love.
My heart still aches, Father; night is not past;
But in the cold and in the void I hear Your voice at last:
Is there any way that you could trust My love,
My life in you, My promise from above,
That joy comes in the morning, that beauty comes from pain?
Can you hold on one moment longer? Is there any way?
The night is black, Father; the stars are blind;
But in the cold I feel a warmth; Your hand I find in mine.
So I will whisper though I fear this night won’t turn to day;
I’ll whisper, and I’ll tell You, Father, yes, there is a way.

Michayla Roth © 2015