My Cup Overflows

Too good, my God, the way You hold 
   my sliding self in You,
too good the way you lavish love,
   too good the way You chide.

Too soft, my God, Your voice, Your touch,
   and yet You thunder truth;
too faint, sometimes, the hand that guides
   and yet Your all abounds

in always-hoping, patient kindness,
   love forever mine;
too good, my God, too much the gift,
   the grace that takes me in -

each day a missive of Your grace,
   each aching joint a prayer,
each year that passes, fuel for thanks;
   too good, my God, You are.

Published by Matthew Pullar

Teacher, writer, blogger, husband, father, Christian. Living in Wyndham in Melbourne's west, on the land of the Kulin Nation. Searching for words to console and feed hearts and souls.

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