Tis the time of trial indeed
When all men shun my cries of desperation
When all is isolation
And comfort flees beyond the horizon
To whom would I turn
Who, indeed will remain?
'Cept the One who is eternal
Yet He is asleep while I await
Tis joyful, such trials of agony
When Peace, though hidden, is buried within
The depths of my floundering soul
For such things please Him most
Yes I will giver thanksgiving and praise
For these are fruit of peace
As sure as grace is its seed
And You, oh LORD, my nourishment!
