He Giveth More Grace

   When I was in high school I hated poetry.  I was sure that it was something that God could have never created.  That left just one other being who could have pulled such a low trick on humanity.

   WHO cares whether it's iambic pentameter or dactylic pentameter?  And prose?  What's up with that? If you are going to call it poetry, it should at least rhyme!  The only good poems (in my opinion) were the ones telling a story.  If the author was able to use halfway understandable words, I didn't mind reading it.  An example would be "The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere".  I actually enjoyed that one!

   The other day I was having a rough day.  Really, really rough.  I remembered seeing this poem posted on a friends wall on Facebook.  I went and looked it up.  I'm glad I did!

He Giveth More Grace

He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,

He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;

To added affliction He addeth His mercy;

To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace

When we have exhausted our store of endurance,

When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,

When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,

Our Father's full giving is only begun.

Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,

Our God ever yearns His resources to share;

Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;

The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.

His love has no limit; His grace no measure,

His pow'r has no boundary known unto men;

For out of His infinite riches in Jesus,

He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again!

Annie Johnson Flint

   I hope that it ministered to you the way that it did me.  In spite of the fact that it's poetry, I truly enjoyed it.  Just please don't tell me what meter it's in.  That will totally ruin it for me.  I don't want to know.