Thursday, November 7, 2013
Gifts From The Heart
Lord, You love gifts that come from the heart, not calculated payments
You know who is rich or poor not just those in gaudy raiment
The widow’s mite means more to You than profits from a king
Then may I always bring my love with every offering.
You gave Your all, do I withhold even the smallest part?
Some time or thoughts that I have kept secret within my heart?
Your arms are open as Your heart, You give, and give again
And I receive all as my part and do not give again.
I sometimes wish that I could throw out into the four winds
Every single thing that I possess and with them all my sins
You are my life, my hope, my love, your arms are always near
And every penny I possess came down from far or near.
I have enough, yet fearing want, lest I should have to beg
I hold on tight to this or that and things within my head.
I want you to be proud of me and say, ‘Well done, my child’
For all I do is not enough and my love I cannot hide.
I hold my arms up to you, Lord and try to wrap around
But how can I retain the wind even here on holy ground?
When all is said and done, my Lord, in crisis teach me more
Then my dependence on You alone will keep my loving pure.
W.B. Nov 2013.