Recommended poem for Wednesday, May 27, 2025

One by one God 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 raised my hands toward heaven
And he filled them with a store,
From his own transcedant riches,
Till they could contian no more.

And at last I comprehended,
In my stuid mind, and dumb,
That God could not pour out his riches
Into hands already full! (Source)