A Sunday morn - a bright new day,
you go to church to sing and pray.
You're greeted there by most you meet - then hurry in to find your seat.

But, if you're asked "How do you feel?"
Don't dare think that it's for real.
A standard "Fine" is all they want to hear - anything more is just too queer.

A hurting heart is just a yoke around their necks -
and makes them choke.
Where is the burden for "wounded hearts"? -
instead of the bullseye for "fiery darts".

I'm glad that the Lord is kind to me and loves me more than all I see.
The Lord is more than all my dreams
and dries my tears and meets my screams
of pain and hurt with soothing love and sends
to me a precious "dove" to lick my wounds and be my guide
to my dear Lord - In HIM I hide.

Maggie Tolbertson 1996