Running on the playground,
My son took quite a fall,
He pulled himslf up carefully,
And then began to call...
"Mommy...Mommy...Mommy..."
"I'm hurt...I'm hurt...hurt...
I run to him, he's on the ground,
His face covered in dirt.
I find him with his hands outstretched,
His eyes are filled with tears,
I scoop him up and hug him as,
I try to soothe his fears.
It's okay I tell him,
(As mother's tend to do)
Now lets go get you cleaned up,
And get a band aid too.
I do not reprimand him,
For being out of sight,
I simply hold him in my arms,
And whisper..."It's alright."
And then it did occur to me,
That God must feel this way,
When his child is hurting,
He whispers..."you okay"?
In a world where things do go wrong,
In a world of struggle and hurt,
I sometimes find...I'm on the ground.
All covered up in dirt,
But I can get up by myself,
I say with just a sigh,
I'm strong enough to stand myself,
I will not even cry.
And so I brush off all the dust,
And stand...to my great boast,
Why must we fall to realize,
What really matters most?
And so I watch each step with care,
Can I avoid a fall?
But living life so carefully,
Is not living at all.
I do not have the answers,
(I may not understand)
But this I know for certain,
He's there to take my hand.
The playground of life lies before me,
At times it's hard to see,
That open arms are waiting,
To love and comfort me.
If I should fall tomorrow,
If I should fall today,
The one who holds eternity,
He still says...
"You okay"?
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