"Where Can I turn for peace,
Where is my solace when other sources cease to make me whole.
When with a wounded heart, anger, or malice,
I draw myself apart, searching my soul
Where, when my aching grows,
Where when I languish,
Where, in my need to know, where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand
He, only One.
He answers privately,
Reaches my reaching,
In my Gethsemane, Savior and Friend
Gentle the peace he finds for my beseeching.
Constant he is and kind
Love without end."
Where is my solace when other sources cease to make me whole.
When with a wounded heart, anger, or malice,
I draw myself apart, searching my soul
Where, when my aching grows,
Where when I languish,
Where, in my need to know, where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand
He, only One.
He answers privately,
Reaches my reaching,
In my Gethsemane, Savior and Friend
Gentle the peace he finds for my beseeching.
Constant he is and kind
Love without end."