“Whenever my journey gets hard to bear
To fields I go to meet You there.
The Holy psalms I shall recount
My horse of courage I shall mount.
My journey through this land gets longer
My hunger for Your home gets stronger.
When hills to climb get only steeper
My love for You gets only deeper.
I shall not stray nor lose my course
With rein in hand, I’ll guide my horse
To fields of good and plenty be
These fields, the ones You promised me
Are void of enemies and grief.
These fields supply me with relief.
I mount my horse, I’m on my way
And in Your fields, My Lord, I’ll stay.”
An old moss covered timber gate at the corner of a field of grass.
Photography & Artwork
by Holly Kempe ©