The night is young and the house is quiet
She lay in her bed asleep
Does she know the day, the hour, the season
The minutes and days
they all become one
It is a journey that's been prolonged and the end is never warned
She continues forward the best she can as the past becomes her today
If only there was a map, we could set a course
Then maybe the waters would not be so rocky
But since this is not the case...I will walk the journey with her.
Lord, help me not become weary
And when I am..help me rely on You
