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  • Writer's pictureEdward Riederich

Broken Pieces

These broken pieces they crumble in my hand 

Filtering through my fingers like grains of sand 

As I fix my gaze upon them on the ground 

I shed my tears but no one hears my sound 


Inside of my stomach the knots I'm feeling

I cry to the Lord for His divine healing 

In those broken pieces I can see a picture 

Of the good and bad there is a mixture 


In the questions and doubts and loneliness

I know there is a place of peace and rest 

The battle waged against me will cease 

I choose to walk in the Lord's joy and peace 


I will not drown but have strength to swim

I choose to cast my cares all on Him

Those broken pieces I still may see

But I know the Lord still cares for me 


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