Clinging Cross

When my mind is fuzzy
And my eyes are dim with tears,
I need to feel Your presence, Lord,
And know that You are near.

When my heart is racing
And my thoughts have such a sting,
I tightly grasp this little cross
And prayerfully I cling.

It's not a magic piece -
This cross Your father planned,
But when I cling to it
I feel Your nail-scarred hand.

Poem by Jane Davis
Copyright 2003

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Kingwood, TX 77339

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