Wednesday, February 16, 2011


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 of 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 my hands could hold no more.
And at last I comprehended
With my stupid mind and dull,
That God could not pour His riches
Into hands already full.
-M.S. Nicholson

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