The road was rough, the path was steep,  Yet grace would guide her wandering feet.  Through trials tall and valleys low,  God’s whisper hummed—“Press on and go.”  The world would roar, its tempests strong,  Like raging winds that howl a song.  Yet prayer became her sturdy sail,  A shield of light when storms assailed.  Her heart, a lantern, flickered bright,  Through darkest doubt, it shed His light.  Each tear that fell, like sacred rain,  Would cleanse her soul and ease her pain.  The Bible sang in sacred sound,  Like rivers rushing, rich, profound.  Its pages danced in golden grace,  A map of mercy, love, and faith.  She climbed the hills, she bore the cross,  Like Jesus walked through pain and loss.  Yet in her steps, His footprints lay,  A guiding path—a narrow way.  Now, with hands worn but spirit strong,  She lifts her voice, a grateful song.  For every step, both slow and fleet,  Has led her to her Savior’s feet.