It's love

In the hospital lights burn,
driving away the night.
A mother kneels exhausted
at her child's bedside
and bows her head in prayer.

It's love that gets us through the night.

In the garden
the son of God falls
to the ground arms outstretched,
pleading with his Father,
"Thy will be done."

It's love that gets us through the night.

Her child is dying.
Darkness has entered her soul,
hard as nails, sharp as a spear.
She cannot breathe.
Why has God forsaken her?

It's love that gets us through the night.

On the cross
Jesus bows his head, exhausted.
Darkness assails his soul.
He cannot breathe, yet he calls out,
praying to his Father.

It's love that gets us through the night.

In the depths of black despair,
hear the echo of his prayer,
"Father, into your hands ..."

It's love that gets us through the night.