Take My Hand

(I wrote this poem as a young teenage girl.  It was written during a tumultuous time in my life when my path seemed rocky, uncertain, and dim.  I turned to the light of prayer often.  I searched my tender soul as a thirsty man lost in a desert of doubt searches for that blessed, golden oasis.  I spent quiet moments in reflection mature for my years.  And it was during this time I came to realize that the Savior is the constant; the North Star, the sun that always rises.  He is the loyal friend that will never leave us, the light of hope that sparkles in the darkness, the balm of peace that heals the heartache.)

 

 

Take my hand,

rough and worn,

and I will help you up the mountain.

For the cliffs are high,

the rocks are steep,

and you can't do it alone.

Take my hand,

strong and great,

and I will help you cross the desert.

For the land is dry,

and the sun is hot,

and you can't do it alone.

 

Take my hand,

firm and safe,

and I will help you sail the ocean.

For the waves are large,

the wind is harsh,

and you can't do it alone.

 

Take my hand,

pierced and gentle,

and I will help you find The Father.

For the path is narrow,

the trail is unsafe,

and you can't do it alone.

 

You don't have to do it alone--

Take my hand.