Kneeling on my knees, the tears are freely falling.
Listening intensely, to the Father as he's calling.
Calling me to sow my tears inside His precious Word.
Trying to remember all the guidance that I have heard.
Plowing in the ground, I dig deep into His soil.
Knowing He is there, to comfort as I toil.
The ground is cracked and dried, but the moisture now is pooling.
Softening in my hands, my spirit is renewing.
I'll bury here my sorrow, and watch to see what grows.
Trusting in the Father, and knowing that He knows.
What life will spring from this terrible mourning?
It's Joy that will come, and it will come in the morning.