I bring those whom I love to you,
commit each to
Your loving care:
then carry them away again
nor leave them there:
forget that You
Who lived to die
(and rose again!)
care more than I.

So back I come
with my heart’s weight,
confessing
my lack of faith
in You alone,
addressing
all I cannot understand
to You,
Who do.

You know each heart,
each hidden wound,
each scar,
each one who played a part
in making those
we bring to You
the ones they are
(and dearer each to You
than us, by far).

So now I give them
to Your loving care,
with thankful heart,
and leave them there.

From Clouds are the Dust of His Feet by Ruth Bell Graham (1992, Crossway Books)