I think that God is proud of those that bear a sorrow bravely.
Proud indeed of them who walk straight through the dark to find him there and kneel in faith to touch his garments hem.
How proud he must be of them, he who knows all sorrow and how hard grief is to bear.
I think he sees them coming and he goes
with outstretched arms to meet them there,
and with a look, a touch on hand or head,
each finds his hurt heart strangely comforted
I saw in all its splendour the plan that God has made.
I stood within the silence of a greenlit leafy glade.
I felt the peace around me and solace filled my mind,
I breathed the healing fullness of its sweetly scented air,
forgetting all the troubles of the world I’d left behind.