FACING & GROWING IN LIFE’S STORMS
AN EVENING PRAYER

I AM, YOU ARE

For who am I,
But a man with many hands...

Hands that joined my laughter
When joy overflowed...

Hands that embraced me
In the depths of emptiness...

Hands that steered me
When I wandered off course...

Hands that lifted me high
When I fell without hope.

A precious, God-given gift indeed;
For who I am is what you are—
To me, a friend.

 

 (My mother sent the following poem to me recently. I first wrote it on February 6, 1998)

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