He spread His wings and caught me, He carried me on His pinions!

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Chance has not brought this ill to me;
It's God's own hand, so let it be,
For He sees what I cannot see.

There is a purpose for each pain,
And He one day will make it plain
That earthly loss is heavenly gain.

Like as piece of tapestry
Viewed from the back appears to be
Only threads tangled hopelessly;

But in the front a picture fair
Rewards the worker for his care,
Proving his skill and patience rare.

You are the Workman, I the frame.
Lord, for the glory of Your Name,
Perfect Your image on the same.


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