For every hill I've had to climb,
For every stone that bruised my feet,
For all the tears and sweat and grime,
For blinding storms and burning feet,
My heart sings but a grateful song-
These were the things that made me strong!
For all the heartaches and the fears,
For all the anguish and the pain,
For gloomy days and fruitless years,
And for the hopes that lived in vain,
I do give thanks, for now I know
These were the things that helped me grow!
'Tis not the softer things of life
Which stimulate man's will to strive;
But bleak adversity and strife
Do most to keep man's will alive.
O'er rose-strewn paths the weaklings creep,
But brave hearts dare to climb the steep.
I send this poem to you my friend,
To encourage you - this is not the end.
Though you may feel weak,
The Lord is strong
So look to Him, my dear friend
It won't be long.
Till you feel His strength,
Carry you along!
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