Thursday, March 29, 2012

I planned an exclusive party.
I worked on my plans lavishly.
The theme of my party was "pity"
And the only guest was "poor me."


I dwelt upon each hurt and sorrow,
And probed all the problems I faced,
While each of the slights I had suffered
Around me I carefully placed.

I spent endless hours in my misery,
Recalling the depth of each pain,
As each reappeared it grew larger,
Thus causing more pity to gain.

The longer I stayed at my party,
The more I felt sorry for me.
And the lower I sank in depression,
The less of real hope I could see.
I reluctantly opened my Bible,
And read of God's love and His grace.
The Lord touched my heart at that moment,
As tears coursed their way down my face.

I started to count all my blessings,
And realized as never before,
That when I think they're all numbered,
The Lord keeps on giving me more.

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