A Widow's Song

The Lord has plucked my choicest flower,
At a most unexpected hour,
'Twas God alone who had the right
To take my beloved from my sight.
The emptiness is with me still
A void that God alone can fill.

What of my love, where can it go?
Its kindnesses to reap and sow.
It would still flame as bright today,
Had not my love been taken away.
I'll take the love of which I sing,
And pour it out unto my King.

Lord, it seems too hard for me,
Your way too dim for me to see.
But far beyond tears and deepest grief
I find a faith that brings relief.
I find a lover who seeks me out,
Who heals the wounds and removes my doubt.

Father, Husband, Priest and King,
With joy I come to you and bring,
All my needs, and every care.
You've fashioned a yoke for me to bear.
With You beside me the burden's light,
The past healed up, and my future's bright.