With God’s Help
I walk through fire, not by choice,
But still, I lift a trembling voice.
For though the pain cuts deep and wide,
I know my Lord walks by my side.
I do not crave the storm or flame,
Nor do I welcome fear or shame.
Yet in the heat, I see so clear—
My weakness, and God’s presence near.
Not just escape, but growth I seek,
To find His strength when I am weak.
For trials peel my pride away,
And show me how I need to pray.
Like Paul who pleaded, “Take it, Lord!”
Yet found instead a deeper sword—
A grace sufficient, fierce and bright,
That turned his darkness into light.
So I will not despise the pain,
Though tears may fall like steady rain.
For in the fire, I’m made like gold—
Refined, renewed, and gently bold.
I hate the ache, the fear, the fight,
But love my God with all my might.
So joy will rise, not from the ease,
But from the One who hears my pleas.
He clothes me in His boundless grace,
He lifts me up in His embrace.
And by His power, I will stand—
A vessel molded by His hand.
No grumbling heart, no bitter song,
But praise to Him who makes me strong.
In rain or shine, through loss or gain,
I’ll worship God through joy and pain.
WoPoLi 
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