Number days, yet know your days
are kept in Him.
If He held stars, then He can hold
your dross, your deadened weight.
At dead-ends, wait. He makes
all things well.
Hope can break, yet covenant
anchors days and ends.
Morning mends. The dross, the deadened weight
of broken hope lifts.
When days are numbered, unencumbered
steadfast love holds tight.
[BWV 12] 06. Choral. Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan: https://youtu.be/3Il1YH2x280
The Consolations of Writing 