“Let it come, as it will, and don’t be afraid.
God does not leave us comfortless, so let evening come.” – Jane Kenyon
You give me just what I can handle,
but no more! Not a drop over-full do You
throw into my bucket. Not another
heap of hay across my shoulders, wide.
You do not burden, or so You say, but
rare do I believe that! My bucket
is quite full, Sir! My shoulders cannot
bare another bale!
Perhaps I can handle more than I dare
think. Perhaps You are molding me
into something great I cannot yet see.
I like the thought of something great
of me to be made, but I also like the
thought of easy days! The scale is
tipping past the balance You love
I must admit, You have brought me
quite far. You have shown me beauties
of sunrises and sunsets over many
different lands. So if you do not leave
me comfortless, I can go glad into
the blackest night! If you do not leave
me comfortless, then no man shall
stand against me!