When trouble days came,

I rooted and waited for God.

Though the walls of the world give way,

And the mountains are upended,

And the foaming waves climb 

As high as the sky; I will stay settled here. 

I looked a fool, but my shelter stood.

Father, sweep me into your high hold

And seal the doors. River me in

And make me glad again. 

Though all the madness that ever was

Arrayed itself around your walls,

It can’t claim us. It takes no share of us.

No rage, nor waves can rise higher than God. 

He keeps an unimaginable summer

That evil can’t blacken or break.

He makes wars cease.

He breaks bows and splinters spears,

Sears chariots, seeds silence,

Raises his words above the din, 

And sets the world right again.

So be still. Be small. Go quiet.

Love and sing and wonder—

Unharmed and unarmed. 

Rest. Watch. 

He is God. 

He doesn’t need you to lift him up;

He is under your feet. He carries you.