As life drones on its weary, inexorable way,
I fight to remain clear on my task.
To love, honour, cherish - every way, every day,
To keep that smile fixed on my mask.

My pain is so real, as sharp as a knife,
Despite my attempts to break free,
It has stayed in my side for all of my life,
So I looked to my Lord to help me.

But, no help was He in the ways that I asked
As his view was different to mine,
This thorn, to me was a dark ghost of the past,
Whilst for Him, it stood for sublime.

For the point of the thorn wasnít the pain,
That I felt every day of my life,
Its purpose I find, was to keep me in mind,
And to ensure Iím a wonderful wife.

For the thorn in my side keeps my feet on the ground
As without it, I sure you now see -
My arrogance, pride and ego abound,
I would not have time left for Thee!

Now every day, as I feel the thornís presence,
I smile as Your grace kills the pain.
For now, that Iím sure of Your omniscience
The thorn is no longer my bane.

 

 

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