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My words were harsh and hasty And they came without a thought. Then I saw the pain and anguish That my bitter words had brought. Bitter words that I had spoken Made me think back through the past; of how many times I'd uttered Biting words whose pain would last. Then I wondered of the people I had hurt by what I'd said; All the ones I had discouraged WHen I didn't use my head. Then I thought about my own lifd, Of painful words I've heard; And of the times I'd been discouraged By a sharp and cruel word. ANd now clearly I remember All tne things I might have done; But, by a word I was discouraged ANd they never were begun. Lord, help my words be silver boxes, Neatly wrapped up with a bow; That I give to all so freely, As through each day I gladly go. Silver boxes full of treasure, Precious gifts from God above; That all the people I encounter Might have a box of GOd's own love. Michael Bright 1989 |
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