Full Hands

One by one He took them from me
All the things I valued most;
‘Til I was empty-handed,
Every glittering toy was lost.

And I walked earth’s highways, grieving,
In my rags and poverty.
Until I heard His voice inviting,
“Lift those empty hands to Me!”

Then I turned my hands toward heaven,
And He filled them with a store
Of His own transcendent riches,
‘Til they could contain no more.

And at last I comprehended
With my stupid mind, and dull,
That God cannot pour His riches
Into hands already full.
Victor Donawson