As children bring their broken toys with tears for us to mend, I brought my broken dreams to God, because He is my friend.
But then instead of leaving Him in peace to work alone, I hung around and tried to help with ways that were my own.
At last I snatched them back and cried, "How could you be so slow?"
"My child," He said, "what could I do? You never did let go."
I got up early one morning and rushed right into the day; I had so much to accomplish that I didn't have time to pray.
Problems just tumbled about me, and heavier came each task; "Why doesn't God help me?" I wondered.
I wanted to see joy and beauty, but the day toiled on gray and bleak; I wondered why God didn't show me.
I tried to come into God's presence; I used all my keys at the lock.
I woke up early this morning and paused before entering the day; I had so much to accomplish that I had to take time to pray.