I asked God why I wasn't rich. He showed me a man with the wealth of a thousand kings, who was lonely, and had no one to share it with.
I asked God why I wasn't beautiful. He showed me a woman more beautiful than any other, who was ugly because of her vanity.
I asked God why He'd allowed me to become old. He showed me a boy of 16, who lay dead at the scene of a car accident.
I asked God why I didn't have a bigger house. He showed me a family of six, who had just been evicted from their tiny shack, and were forced, to live on the street.
I asked God why I had to work. He showed me a man, who couldn't find a decent job, because he'd never learned to read.
I asked God why I wasn't more popular. He showed me a socialite with a thousand friends, who all left the moment the money and parties were no longer there.
I asked God why I wasn't smarter. He showed me a natural born genius, serving life in prison for making ill use of his knowledge.
I knew then how much He loved me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment