Austin's Blog

Our eyes were misty the day he came,
A breath, a cry, a whispered name.
A gift from God, so pure, so bright,
A soul wrapped soft in Heaven’s light.

Tears gathered, spilled—his mother’s face,
His father’s hands, a warm embrace.
The room was full, yet hushed and still,
As love poured out, too deep to fill.

Through fleeting days of laughter sweet,
Our misty eyes met joy complete.
A smile, a gaze so full of cheer,
A love too vast to hold down here.

And then the day, the aching cost,
Our misty eyes—we wept, we lost.
The sky grew dark, the air stood still,
A bitter cup, a broken will.

But misty eyes are not unseen,
For Christ once wept where death had been.
He knows our grief, He shares our cries,
The Man of Sorrows, misty-eyed.

Yet through the veil of night and pain,
A promised dawn will rise again.
With hands once scarred, yet strong and wise,
He’ll wipe the tears from misty eyes.

And when we see him, face to face,
Our hearts restored in love’s embrace,
Our misty eyes will shine anew—
For there, our son will meet us too.