The skeptic blames our God for the handicapped child;
He sees an outcast wretch degenerate and wild,
Whose mind has flown; he lives a wasted life.
And he questions, “how could God permit such strife?”
The finger of disaster strikes the good,
And few folk find a reason why men should
Believe in God, and trust His hidden ways.
Nor can we fathom this throughout our days.
The skeptic enters through his neighbor’s gate;
Who often says that man must wait
To get the answer clear that comes from Heav’n.
He never holds a grudge nor must he “ get even.”
The skeptic knew this man had heard within the hour,
The news which makes a mortal heart turn sour.
The lab report revealed that he had cancer.
Now he wondered what would be his answer?
The neighbor prayed,” God give me Faith to bear the test.
But this I know—Your way is always best;
And may I ever learn to trust Your Word.
May every day the comfort of Your voice be heard”
‘Twas then the skeptic saw the secret of this saint;
A picture for another I can’t paint.
Nor can I spell it out in just a word.
For every man alone is thus assured.
God never takes away the chance to doubt;
But when in trouble He provides His sure way out.
We learn to trust His leading come what may.
And He will take us through each trying day.
So as the skeptic weighs the questions in his mind,
There dawns a quick solution which he finds…
That Satan hung the veil of doubt ‘twas SIN.
And now he sees, since God has planted Faith within!
By Chaplain Don