17 Christian God’s Perfect Timing Poems About Waiting and Faith

Father, in Thy mysterious presence kneeling,
Fain would our souls feel all Thy kindling love;
For we are weak, and need some deep revealing
Of Trust and Strength and Calmness from above.

Lord, we have wandered forth through doubt and sorrow,
And Thou hast made each step an onward one;
And we will ever trust each unknown morrow,–
Thou wilt sustain us till its work is done.

In the heart’s depths a peace serene and holy
Abides, and when pain seems to have her will,
Or we despair,–O, may that peace rise slowly,
Stronger than agony, and we be still!

Now, Father, now, in Thy dear presence kneeling,
Our spirits yearn to feel Thy kindling love;
Now make us strong, we need Thy deep revealing
Of Trust and Strength and Calmness from above.

Psalm xlvi.

God is our refuge and our strength,
When trouble’s hour is near;
A very present help is He;
Therefore we will not fear.

Although the pillars of the earth
Shall clean removed be,
The very mountains carried forth,
And cast into the sea;

Although the waters rage and swell,
So that the earth shall shake;
Yea, and the solid mountain roots
Shall with the tempest quake;

There is a river that makes glad
The city of our God;
The tabernacle’s holy place
Of the Most High’s abode.

The Lord is in the midst of her,
Removed she shall not be;
Because the Lord our God himself
Shall help her speedily.

The Lord our strength and refuge is,
When trouble’s hour is near;
A very present help is He;
Therefore we will not fear.

Affliction’s faded form draws nigh,
With wrinkled brow and downcast eye;
With sackcloth on her bosom spread,
And ashes scattered o’er her head.

But deem her not a child of earth;
From heaven she draws her sacred birth;
Beside the throne of God she stands
To execute his kind commands.

The messenger of love, she flies
To train us for our sphere, the skies;
And onward as we move, the way
Becomes more smooth, more bright the day.

Her weeds to robes of glory turn,
Her looks with kindling radiance burn;
And from her lips these accents steal,–
“God smites to bless, he wounds to heal!”

Thou that art strong to comfort, look on me!
I sit in darkness and behold no light;
Over my soul the waves of agony
Have gone, and left me in a rayless night.

A bruised and broken reed sustain! sustain!
Divinest Comforter, to Thee I fly,
To whom no soul hath ever fled in vain;
Support me with thy love, or else I die.

Father, what’er I had, it all was thine;
A God of mercy Thou hast ever been;
O, help me what I most loved to resign,
And if I murmur, count it not for sin.

My soul is strengthened now, and it shall bear
All that remains, whatever it may be;
And from the very depths of my despair
I will look up, O God, and trust in Thee!