This is a chapel by Lake Tekapo, New Zealand with a view of Mt Cook
through the window.
WE DON'T KNOW WHY
We don't know the whys,
That God calls us to make a stand?
We don't even know the wherefores,
Or even if we can?
We see a world that's forgotten him,
As it passes on parade,
And our faith in him is weakened,
We feel so alone and so afraid.
Satan would have us believe
That wealth, health or fame,
Are measures of God's love,
For those who wear his name.
But saints have always suffered,
Knowing their journey here is brief,
Trusting God to comfort them,
In all their pain and grief.
He too, was a man of sorrows,
And he suffered all alone,
Not for his sins, but others,
That he might for them atone.
Though we don't have all the answers,
As the anguished call out "Why?"
We know that he cares so much for us,
That he went to the cross to die!
And he reaches through the ages.
With his nail-scarred hand.
He asks only that we trust him,
We don't have to understand.
Freda Fullerton
May 23, 2011
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