Poem January 18, 1988 Issue

God always answers

Wilma A. Cantrell

Father, here I sit.
I cry out: Please let me feel Your presence,
Your love, Your allness—
without doubt or fear.
Help me to know
no other power or presence.

You are all, even to the far reaches
of space.
No vacuums of need for Your
tender, loving angel messages—
messages I can hear and understand,
because man is Your child.

This is the truth and the
truth of every beloved child,
here and now.
Thank you, Father;
this is truth, and truth
heals.

Where Love is, and there
is no place where Love
cannot be found,
there is no pain, no doubt,
no fear—
only the light of Love.

In this light there is only
rest and peace.
I thank You, Father,
for all my brothers and sisters
and for me.
There is peace and healing.

Wilma A. Cantrell

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