Miracles are wrought upon our knees; A window opens toward the sky. If the heart humbles itself before God, The seed of faith breaks through and multiplies.
Though the sprout is still so very small, Barely visible in parched earth, If the seed grows even in ruins, It will sprout upon the grey and ash...
The enemy tries to crush and break, To sow fear and kill all hope... Yet faith is born again, reborn, Without it, none can live, can thrive...
Miracles do not happen by themselves, Someone prays, believes, and waits. When the soul is filled with faith entire, God sends forth what we have sought!
