What God Hath Promised

What God Hath Promised By Annie Johnson Flint

God hath not promised skies always blue, Flowers-strewn pathways all our lives through;

God hath not promised sun without rain,

Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.

But God hath promised strength for the day.

Rest for the labor, light for the way, Grace for the trials, help from above,

Unfailing sympathy Undying love...

This poem hangs in "Mom's office" in my parent's house. I cross-stitched it as a gift to my Mom when her Dad, my Grandpa Arden, died unexpectedly when I was in college.

I never really gave this poem too much thought. I was irritated when I cross-stitched it because I was really an amateur at the true "art" behind what I was doing and I bought a piece of fabric that was too short to hold the entire poem. But, I didn't realize it until I was almost 2/3 of the way finished.
The cobbling together of fabric to complete the task was less than graceful. Thankfully, Mom never cared. She just cherished the work behind the mess.

And that's what Mom's do: we take the mess and cherish it. Just like God takes each of us, in our messes and incompetence and disobedience, and STILL finds a way to love us unconditionally.

In the midst of your dark days, remember God's all-consuming love. It is there, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 366* days a year. And it is just for you.


*Don't comment that I made a typo. I have a friend with a leap year birthday, so I MUST give credit to the extra day or I get the stink-eye. Until her next birthday. And, frankly, that just sucks.