Friday, August 5, 2016

The Thorn





There are seasons for all things under the sun. But all seasons are for falling hard after Christ, and for knowing in my bones that ALL that He gives is truly a gift. 




A "mendicant" is a begger__  And how true this poem I read the other week is of my soul, of my longings, of my God__

{The Thorn, by Martha Snell Nicholson}

I stood a mendicant of God before His royal throne
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.





I took the kids to the beach last week. 

I forgot everything... the wagon, a hat for my baby, dry clothes for the ride home, sunscreen. It didn't matter, we had a blast. 

We borrowed some fun inner tubes from a friend. And when we were almost home we realized we had left them at the beach. We replaced them. 

I lost it on a kid who didn't want to get buckled into his car seat this morning. I made it right, and he forgave me. 

School starts in one week. It all looks so impossible on paper... the teaching four different levels, the feeding-feeding-feeding, the cleaning, the toddler with zero self control, the cutest baby on the planet who is sure to be on the move sooner than later. I have no idea how to make it all work. 








But there is grace__ there is ALWAYS grace. 

"I AM LEARNING (ever so slowly) He never gives a thorn without this added grace,
He takes the thorn to pin aside the veil which hides His face."