I was looking through my journal, and I discovered that in the front I had written this poem, given to me by my friend Colleen several years ago when I was going through a very rough time. It still makes me cry.
Child of my love, lean hard
And let me feel the pressure of thy care.
I know thy burden, child, I shaped it,
Poised it in Mine Own hand, made no proportion
In its weight to thine unaided strength,
For even as I laid it on, I said,
“I shall be near, and while she leans on Me,
This burden shall be Mine, not hers;
So shall I keep my child within the circling arms
Of My Own love.” Here, lay it down, nor fear
To impose it upon a shoulder which upholds
The government of world. Yet closer come,
Thou art not near enough. I would embrace thy care,
So I might feel My child reposing on My breast.
Thou lovest Me? I knew it. Doubt not then,
But loving Me, lean hard.
It is possibly one of the most beautiful thoughts ever.
And some days, I just need to read it again.