I got this from a blog I read and she got it from a book I am going to check out soon. But this poem really, really spoke to me and I wanted to put it here to remember.
by Martha Snell Nicholson
I stood a mendicant [beggar] of God
before His royal throne
And begged Him for a 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
that Thou hast given me.
He said, “My child, I give good gifts
and give 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.