The Wildflower
I saw that one of God’s wildflowers was wilting in the weather
But Jesus gave her a drink.
Just when she couldn’t take anymore storms
She would see His hand come reach.
I watched as He sat over her frame
I’d see Him blow tenderly
Giving her little bursts of life
Ever so gently.
The flower, she wondered, if life could go on
For nothing seemed ever the same
But as I watched a hand from Heaven
Was drawing a picture of rain.
Showers of blessings were soon coming down
Singing a sweet refrain
And soon the wildflower was filled with joy
By the power of Christ’s dear name.
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