Learned, but have I really learned To trust? Hoped in God, yet other times In dust. Treasures high, but also some That rust. Desired God; not always, But I must. Hungry, thirsty, satisfied And filled, Yet other times all empty Wanting, nil. Reaching for His word I must Be still,

When I look towards the towering hills The fog weaved gently between them The sun’s rays beaming through majestic clouds, When I feel it’s warmth on my face, Or the crisp morning air, When I see the long grass laced in frost And consider that the moon and the stars Are hung