Blessed are those who are out of their depths,
Facing whelms impassable without an ark
Or a parting of the waves so complete
That the soggy mud of river bottom
Unsquelches and hardens into pavement
For multitudes to cross.
Blessed are the wilderness wanderers,
Led, not lost, yet nonetheless
Out of water, out of food, out of options,
Unless their Shepherd supplies their need.
Blessed are the desperate,
For never can they forget their desperate
Dependence on God—
True of all of us,
All of the time,
Yet so easily forgotten
In level lands and well-stocked shelves.
Blessed are the needy,
Crying out to God,
For they shall find Him faithful.
