Gasping, barely-breathed, My cry reaches the ear of God. Not by my effort. I have no words. The pain has rendered me mute. My mind knows not what to pray. I merely groan, waiting, Hoping, not seeing, Needing a Daysman To bridge the space Between my heart and God’s. His Spirit within Searches my heart, Sees my need, Hears my cry, Knows the mind of Christ for me; And carries my heart’s true desire To the Mediator who hung ‘Tween Heaven and earth for me. They know – The Father, The Son, The Spirit – What I need. He works all things For my good. He uses the pain, The not-knowing, The groanings that have no words, To mold, To conform, To His image, The Three-In-One. The Godhead. The Christ Who is for me, Who freely gives me all things, Who is at His Father’s right hand Communing with His Spirit Who lives in me. The pain that makes me mute Begins His glory in me. The tribulation cannot separate me from Him. My cries are not unheard. When I can only groan, The Triune God Thunders on my behalf.