We may not be a mystic or a saint,
nor reach the perfect ways for which one strives,
here every effort meets with some constraint,
we work within the contours of our lives.
There are no words to match the way I feel,
the more I reach to God, so He recedes,
in all we do we're stuck with what is real,
yet somehow He takes care of all our needs.
We usually do not choose the ones we meet,
so many things don't go the way we plan,
we're mostly marching to another beat,
we take what comes and do the best we can.
God, You'll make all come out right in the end,
so long I don't forget Who is my friend.
-- by Pete Voelz 8/07
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