Watching over all of us, until the time is right, to separate the sheep from goats, and light Eternal Light.
In Your Hand
By Arley Steinhour 120311
Dear Father God, watch over our soldiers,
as they leave the place called Iraq,
Gently lift the load from their shoulders,
keep them safe, till we get them all back.
Campsites to be empty, fox-holes bare,
Leaving a Free country, as we disband,
What then comes, only you Lord can see,
The fate of Iraq, in your hand.
We still have troops on Afghani slopes,
Protecting, that nation, from spoil,
Trying to save many folk from the grave,
Sacrificing for life, not oil.
Wake up our leaders, to rational thought,
Pull all from their land, as we must,
Muslim folk hate us, as Quran says they aught,
Turning not from their hatred, till we're part of the dust.
There's one thing on their heart, destroy 'not of kind,'
Jew or Christian, does not, their blood line refine,
They offer one time, promise not worth a dime,
then kill all they think is not of their kind.
Your Will, soon will be done,
God, Yahweh, on High,
Yes, you are the one,
In whom, we can't Second Death die.
In your hand, is where we are,
Especially our Military,
Be we near or be we far,
Under your wing we all can Tarry.