He is there 

She sits with bowed head

On her couch.

Consumed with worry,

Fear, anxiety

For her unborn daughter,

For her ill

Three-year-old daughter.

No relief

No sleep

No peace.

And then he comes

Standing silently

Behind her

Placing his wounded hands

On her shoulder.

Feeling her pain

Transmitting light.

Oh, Lord, can she see you?

Can she feel your presence?

The Prince  of Peace. 

He who wipes away all tears.

Wipe them from my daughters face,

Calm her troubled heart.

Whisper, peace, Lord.

Whisper love.