With a burdened mind and aching heart, I pray on bended knee,
That as days go by,
And my sister does cry.
Let her not forget that it is He.
He who is understanding,
He who is peace.
He who makes a way for us,
He who raises the weak.
Her hurt is my hurt, Father.
Her sorrow is mine.
Let her trials be lifted,
As not my will, but thine.
She needs you now Father,
That much is true,
But from so far away, what more can I do?
I ask these things to be done in your name,
For there is none like you,
None with power the same.
Bring Tasha the comfort she needs to go on,
And show her that her plan was long drawn.
Keep her in your sights Lord,
That's all I can ask of you.
Because prayer is the only thing she has left that will hold true.
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