Other Than Mine

I would have chosen a sunlit path,
   All strewn with roses fair,
With never a cloud to darken my way,
   Nor a shade of anxious care.
But He chose for me a better way-
   Not sunshine or roses sweet,
But clouds o'erhead, and thorns below
   That cut and hurt my feet.
I have deep joys of another kind,
   My Rose of Sharon is He
And as for sunshine-His lovely face
   Is perfect sunshine to me.

I would have chosen my life to be
   Active, tireless and strong;
A constant, ceaseless working for Him,
   Amid the needy throng.
But He chose for me a better lot-
   A life of frequent pain,
Of strength withheld when needed most,
   And loss instead of gain.
He gave me work of another kind,
   Far, far above my thought,
The work of interceding with Him,
   For souls that He had bought.

'Tis far, far better to let Him choose
   The way that we should take,
If only we leave our life with Him
   He will guide without mistake.
We, in our blindness, would never choose
   A pathway dark and rough,
And so we would never find in Him,
   "The God who is enough."
In disappointment, trouble and pain
   We turn to the changeless One,
And prove how faithful, loving and wise
   Is God's beloved Son.
                     -Catherine A. Miller