God, take these sorrows I cannot name,

these ashes left from grief and flame.

Take every tear I’ve learned to hide,

and make a holy song inside.

Turn every wound into a word,

each whispered prayer into something heard.

Where sorrow lingers, soft and long,

teach my broken heart a song.

Make every ache a sacred line,

every loss somehow divine.

And when my weary spirit calms,

God, turn these sorrows into psalms.

Photo by Lisa Marie Theck on Unsplash