I trust you.
I love you.
Help me.
Slowly I climbed out of the pit, and I am certain the rope thrown to me was divinely woven in patient love. Though I couldn’t see the way out I never let go of that rope, and He never let go of me. I am reminded of the familiar Psalm, Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.
Thank you, Lord, that my joy is here, it has never left, and it never will.