Two today, about not being abandoned. Yes, even us. Yes, even now. The first, “Spring Flowers”, can be sung to the tune of “The Church’s One Foundation.”

In every flow'r that rises
from spring's downtrodden mud
the hopes our heart now prizes
lie nourished by the flood.
The end of winter's crisis
is swaddled in each bud:
the seeds of sacrifices
fed by our savior's blood.

For Christ is here beside us
in every cry of fear,
through doubts that now betide us
is counting every tear.
The shepherd who espied us
when lost in anxious drear
comes closer now to guide us
and draw us still more near.

Who died for our own rising
will not leave us to mourn
but in his sacrificing
grants that we are reborn:
Alive in his baptizing
with new robes to be worn.
New hope springs up, surprising;
new flow'rs the spring adorn.

The second, “Samaritan Woman,” comes from the Gospel for last Sunday.

Well, there you go: You know what I have done.
My life's great failures summed up in one phrase—
“Go, fetch your husband.”—though you know I've none.
My sin, I think, 's the only thing that stays.

But you have not yet left; you sit there still
and speak to me of spirit and of truth
'til I forget the jug I came to fill
and drink the first words my great thirst to soothe.

I can still meet the Father, even here
and even me; I am not cast aside,
but like a dipper when the well is near
I can bear him, can have some good inside.

And you, the wellspring: If I trace your source
I can approach—yes, even I—the life
that flows through every river in its course
and love it like a good and faithful wife.

He will not leave us orphans. Really, really not. Even if we’re afraid.