God's boxes

I have in my hands two boxes which God gave me to hold
He said, "Put all your sorrows in the black,
And all your joys in the gold."

I heeded His words, and in the two boxes
Both my joys and sorrows I stored
But though the gold became heavier each day
The black was as light as before

With curiosity, I opened the black I wanted to find out why
And I saw, in the base of the box, a hole
Which my sorrows had fallen out by

I showed the hole to God, and mused aloud,
"I wonder where my sorrows could be."
He smiled a gentle smile at me."
"My child, they're all here with me."

I asked, "God, why give me the boxes,
Why the gold, and the black with the hole?"
"My child, the gold is for you to count your blessings,
The black is for you to let go."

Judge Gently

Pray don't find fault with the man
who limps or stumbles along the road
Unless you have worn the shoes he wears,
or struggled beneath his load.
There may be tacks in his shoes that hurt,
though hidden away from view,
Or the burden he bears...placed on your back,
might cause you to stumble too.
Don't sneer at the man who's down today,
unless you have felt the blow
That caused his fall or felt the shame
that only the fallen know.
You may be strong, but still the blows that
were his...if dealt to you,
In the selfsame way at the selfsame time
might cause you to stagger too.
Don't be too harsh with the man who sins
or pelt him with word or stone
Unless you are sure...yea doubly sure
that you have no sins of your own...
For you know...perhaps if the tempters
voice should whisper...
as softly to you
As it did to him...when he went astray
could cause you to falter too.


Author Unknown

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