Empty Hands

2/25/1998

A poem...

One by one He took them from me,

All the things I valued most,

Until I was empty-handed;

Every glittering toy was lost.

And I walked earth’s highways, grieving,

In my rags and poverty.

Till I heard His voice inviting,

“Lift your empty hands to Me!”

So I held my hands toward heaven,

And He filled them with a store

Of His own transcendent riches,

Till they could contain no more.

And at last I comprehended

With my stupid mind and dull,

That God COULD not pour His riches

Into hands already full!

11:49 a.m.

jesuslifetogether.com
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