The Master’s Loving Touch

I pour my morning coffee and then curl up in my chair;

the family slumbers on as I begin my morning prayer.

With quiet psalms of gratitude to start another day,

I lift my eyes toward eastern skies – a canvas filled with gray.

With promise of the sun’s return, the birds begin to sing;

the sparrows teach a steadfast trust in all that time will bring.

For none of us can add an hour of life by doubt or fear;

throughout the day our needs are met, and God is always near.

I wait in peace, for I have learned that changes can’t be rushed;

The Master’s time is perfect as He chooses a new brush.

The gray begins to fade as purple tinges now appear,

He layers blues and pinks and reds as I watch and revere.

The yellows are the golden touch as morning comes alive

I drain my cup with renewed hope – my inner strength revived.

The beauty of His masterpiece I’ll carry through the day,

and angels will protect me as I journey on the way.

Each day the sunrise promises my heart can be renewed,

and I can strive for holiness with faith that’s strong and true.

Throughout the day I’ll journey on; I’m grateful for so much.

But most of all, I’m grateful for the Master’s loving touch.