questions come to me

Questions, Questions in a myriad they go,
When will they stop? I don’t really know.
They come to me day and night,
Reason I muster, yet am I right?

My future, my present and even my past,
Are crashing in on me with a blast.
They march before me in a parade,
As I wonder what of my life I have made.

Then my friend comes and speaks to me,
“It’s not what you’ve made it or want to be.
When I look at you I see God’s love,
I see the work of the Holy Dove.

I’ll rest from my questions all through the day,
And trust in You to guide my way.
When questions march before me at night,
I’ll send them on a little flight.

Way up they can go to my God above,
I will trust in Him and walk in love.
I will rest from all worry and fear,
For I know that my Redeemer is near.

— by Janet Barrett