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Whispers In The Wind


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When little cares of daily life,
Make everything seem wrong;
Entwine them around a prayer,
Then direct it to the throne.

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A Mother's Little Boy

The mother watched her little boy,
Wondering what the years would bring;
For she knew without a doubt,
That he was born to be a king.

His tunic was long and shaggy,
Knotted with a goatskin tie;
Did He know that in the future,
He would be condemned to die?

A tree somewhere was growing tall,
Into a cross it would be made;
it was to hold this little lad,
Who in the desert sands now played.

His mother lovelingly touched His head,
His laughter filled her heart with joy;
Although He was the "Son Of God',
He was still her little boy.


Everything seemed to be going well,
I was soaring through my days;
I always knew that God was there,
But I forgot to give Him praise.

Then there came a troubled time,
I could only sit and cry;
My wings had folded in the dark,
They were too weak to fly.

It seemed that God was saying,
I can surely set you free;
But child I had to clip your wings,
So you would lean on me.