Vaulted Vision

We cannot hope to see God's face
Until we've seen His hand.
We cannot hope to recognize
Or even understand
The mercy of the Holy One,
His watchful, tender care,
Through blessings that surround us
'Til we see His workings there.

His hand is seen in tenderness
Of mother's first embrace
Of tiny infant placed nearby
Her wearied, grateful face.
His hand is witnessed carefully
Each time the sun doth rise
Then arcs upon its course along
The never ending skies.

His hand extends to weary hearts
Who suffer on their way
Through other hands who minister
And care for them today.
His hand is quiet, gentle, seeking
Place on every head
Who seeks to feel His presence
More than worldly praise instead.

And as we train our eyes to see
The smallest grace from Him,
Our vision will be opened to
The majesties within.
Our noble born inheritance,
His children we'll be known
As those who've seen His hands
We'll know His face when we are home.


Anna M. Molgard

© 2009 Faithsong Publications, L.L.C.
www.faithsongmusic.com