I walked the week's path and when I came to the endI looked back to review its long courseBut when I saw I'd tread only very few stepsI heaved a great sigh of remorse.There are weeks that I've run with hardly a restAnd days that I've sat to the side,And yet those few steps that I'd marked in the dirtSeemed to snuff out my credible pride.So there, 'neath the trees, determined to poutDiscouraged and ready to quitI knelt in the brush, tears stinging my eyesTill a voice whispered, "You can do it."And out from the trees came a brilliant manFull of love, gleaming smile on his faceAnd he stretched forth his hand, and he lifted me upAnd he healed me with his warm embrace
By Lindsay KayCopyright Nov '09
This is why I love Sundays. It's as if the Savior himself, with his abundant love, fills me from head-to-toe with determination and a new sense of purpose to get me through another week. He knows our potential is great and he is always willing to remind us, but we cannot do it without him. I love him for his patience, his trust and his love.
This week I will do better, for him.