And begged him for one priceless gift, which I could call my own.
I took the gift from out His hand, but as I would depart
I cried, “But Lord this is a thorn and it has pierced my heart.
This is a strange, a hurtful gift, which Thou hast given me.”
He said, “My child, I give good gifts and gave My best to thee.”
I took it home and though at first the cruel thorn hurt sore,
As long years passed I learned at last to love it more and more.
I learned He never gives a thorn without this added grace,
He takes the thorn to pin aside the veil which hides His face.
by Martha Snell Nicholson
*Thank you* for sharing this. Such a rich encouragement. I feel I could draw from it for hours.
ReplyDeleteWow, that was beautiful. I so love the last line. We have to face the fire to see His glory... Love you, sister.
ReplyDeletebeautiful! that's such a raw description of how tainted our earthly view of goodness is. Thanks for posting. Glad to see you {kind-of} back on blogger. :)
ReplyDeleteWow. That last line.
ReplyDeleteI love this, Jen! Thanks for posting!
(and p.s., thanks for the sweet comment on my blog. Miss you too!)
what a coincidence! i sent you a message asking you to blog, and you had blogged an hour or so before.
ReplyDeletethanks!
very good. where did you find it?
Where did this come from. It's amazing. Thanks for posting it!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, Jen! I really appreciated those thoughts. Thanks for sharing them. :)
ReplyDeleteHi Jen, I'm new to your blog. Love it! I'm bookmarking you :)
ReplyDeleteThis poem is amazingly beautiful. So profound.
Thanks for sharing it!
- Abbie