No blinding sunlight nor splendid midday sun;
Hardly a shining beacon; no lighthouse here.
No shaft of light from heaven to dispel the obscurity,
No radiant torch, no brilliant blaze or dazzling flare.
As sunlight dims and eventide approaches
Brightness fades to gentle dusk and shadows loom
And I am but a slight and flickering flame
Feeble, barely a glimmer on bleak horizon
And some days that has to be enough.
I take hope in this:
“A bruised reed He will not break and a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish.” Isaiah 42:3