My All to Thee
Where is our God of heav’n rewards,
To single child or teaming hordes,
We all know pain if great or small,
True suffering is known to all.
Yet, if a father carries child,
Through every danger in the wild,
And, with a carriage strolls the kid,
Produces her an invalid.
It is a grandfather we yearn,
To coddle through life’s toughest turn,
With each request we want him bless,
A constant, softened breathless, “Yes”!
The world has joy, but also stain,
The constant thing I learn with pain,
The greatest hope I have for me,
Is when I give my all to Thee!
Peter Lowell Paulson
March 23, 2018
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