This gift You've given, Father
Crafted by Your love.
Valued beyond measure
Sent from Heaven above.
Wrapped in chords of mercy,
Sealed by precious blood.
Waiting to be taken
Asking naught but love.
When this gift is opened
With trembling heart and hand,
We find our gifts within the gift
The ones we can return.
They come uniquely fashioned
for service, not for fame.
When given back, with humble heart,
Bring glory to His Name.
linking to Emily's imperfect prose today
Blessings,
Linda
picture: my crown of thorns plant - reminding me of the cost