bump in the night

insoluble problems bind me
i rush out of the tyranny and into the desert
and try to forgive a situation
for being what it is

there are all these things
that go bump in the night —
seasons when the sun doesn’t shine
and the wind doesn’t blow

it seems these eggshells might as well be stone
these words might as well be glass

yet i know that God always uses broken vessels
to bring glory to love that lasts

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