His

Even when I sit quietly
Without Him comes anxiety
Hiding in my heart, stressed
A fear of silent evil rests.
Yet, I am "His."

Even when I sit quietly
My sorrow no one else can see
The pain buried deep inside
Holds me tight, peace denied.
Still, I am "His."

Even when I sit quietly
It doesn't mean that I am free
Until I give to God complete control
And every burden within my soul.
Then, I am "His."

Even when I sit quietly
Raise my hand for all to see
God will come so mercifully
For He sits quietly beside me.
Now, I am "His."

Book by Kathleen Higham

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