By Rita Broden
I have no problems God can’t solve
Or battles He can’t fight
And yet I hang on to them as my own
If to God I’d just relinquish them
As quickly as they come
I’d never have to face them all alone.
Much to my shame, I must admit,
Quite often God’s the last one
That I will turn my troubles over to
And yet I know from past experience
If I’d just give them to Him
He’ll provide me with a way to make it through.
But NO! I have to hold on tight
And wrestle till I’m weary
All the while fully knowing I can’t win
Only when, at last, I give them
To the Victor of the fight
Am I then free to truly live again.