A poem

One by one He took them from me

All the things I valued most;

'Til I was empty-handed,

Every glittering toy was lost.

And I walked earth's highways, grieving,

In my rags and poverty.

Until I heard the Voice inviting,

"Lift those empty hands to Me!"

Then I turned my hands toward heaven,

And He filled them with a store

Of His own transcendent riches,

'Til they could contain no more.

And at last I comprehended

With my stupid mind, and dull,

That God cannot pour His riches

Into hands already full.

~ Author Unknown

just Sheri, empty hands hoping for renewed purpose