Ujamaa Christian Poetry

Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.

Though there is sadness, there is no despair
My hope is in Him, I've nothing to fear
Even as forgotten aches are creeping back in
Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.

I've emptied my heart, all that's left are the moans
Please curtail my suffering, or call me on home
Each moment a struggle, daily chagrin
Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.

My spirit's melancholy but 'tis well with my soul
My flesh it weak but His blood has made me whole
My heart feels as if being torn limb from limb
Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.

I thought you would be the supreme anesthesia
That there would be no more pain since you are my healer
I pray for another dousing, filling to the brim
Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.

Bring me back to where we first did begin
Where my only craving was your touch on my skin
Through my tears, my vision grows dim
Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.

I don't understand why this must be
How have I displeased You that this must happen to me
Your perfect will is why, and Your timing is when
Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.

Salvation in check, peace at rest
My joy may be wavering, but I still know I'm blessed
I resist drowning, and continue to swim
Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.

I lay it in your hands and trust that you will
My unrest-- quiet, my requests--fill
My hands lifted in praise, my mouth spilling hymns
Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.

Written by Annette M. Parrott