The Strength of Meekness
Beneath the shadow of the cross so dear,
A whisper calls through storm and fear,
Not with the clang of pride’s loud boast,
But meekness, gift of the Holy Ghost.
The Savior knelt, a servant low,
With hands that washed where love would grow,
No crown of gold adorned His brow,
Yet power flowed in stillness now.
“Blessed are the meek,” He spoke in grace,
A promise carved in heaven’s space,
For they shall reign, the earth their own,
Through humble hearts, His will is sown.
Not weakness bends the meek to yield,
But strength, a quiet, holy shield,
To turn the cheek, to bear the load,
To walk with God on mercy’s road.
When tempests rage and voices clash,
When anger burns and pride would flash,
The meek stand firm, their spirits free,
Rooted deep in eternity.
Oh, Lamb of God, so meek, so mild,
You tamed the wild with heart of child,
Teach us to bow, to trust, to see,
The might that dwells in meekness be.
For in Your kingdom, upside-down,
The lowly wear the victor’s crown,
And meekness shines, a sacred flame,
Forever praising Jesus’ name.