The sadness and the sound of grief
Is somehow far beyond belief,
Amidst the soldiers in the ranks
Of those who praise and give You thanks.
They get no pass for loving You,
Their troubles mount in all they do.
They stretch their faith and wear them thin,
Until they think that evil wins.
But then You somehow show Your face,
And fill their soul with holy grace.
Dispelling fear with love sublime,
It happens each and every time.
If we but simply trust in You,
And try our best Your will to do,
All things endure, we surely would,
Because You work them for our good.