As I walk in the dim light of a November afternoon,
the week’s struggles turning in the mind,
Jesus be light to me.

As the fading wind of the mornings storm blows against my face,
the burdens of ministry feeling weighty,
Jesus be hope to me.

As autumns patchwork of browns, yellows and reds
tuck themselves into crevasses and corners,
in uncertainty of what the next week will bring,
Jesus be with me.

Jesus be light to me.
Jesus be hope to me.
Jesus be with me.