I Fear No Darkness

by Paul Lytle

Oh, blessed be the Lord, our God, on high;
You carry me through Monday's work and cleave
me to Your breast 'til all the week is by,
and to the last — the weekend's sweet reprieve.

And traffic never feels as bad to me
when singing praises to Your Holy Name. I find
the boss these days to be great company;
a minor trial is this daily grind.

In such a time there's naught that seems a bother.
With these short words so light upon my lips —
I cry them all the day, "Abba, Father!"
Then I'm immune to insults, thorns, and quips.

I fear no darkness, Lord, with You beside;
You humble me, and guard, and finally guide.