Lifted Eyes

When threats and perils dog my path ahead,
When enemies invade my tranquil glade,
I often think, amid those hours of dread,
About a shepherd-lad who, unafraid,
Takes up a sling to save his captive lamb
From beastly jaws, returns it to his flock,
Then sings of his own Shepherd--the I Am--
Who ever will be David's solid Rock.

I ponder his anointing by the seer,
Though eighth in line of Jesse's strapping sons;
His courage as the Philistine draws near,
Though every seasoned veteran turns and runs.
In exile, hounded by the wounded king
Who'd never watch his son ascend the throne,
The outlaw David even yet may sing
Of One who, like him, bears His cross alone.

Does David, like I, struggle to believe,
Even remember, pledges God has sworn,
After a lifetime waiting to receive?--
For only firm in faith can such be borne...
He calls upon the God whose help he needs:
The Maker of the heavens and the earth
Who needs no help, yet daily tends and feeds
A flock all but unmindful of His worth.

I lift my eyes, with David, to the hills
And wonder what new form my help may take...
But David's greater Son my tempest stills.
He's ruling over all things for my sake.