If all my days were sunny, could I say,“In His fair land He wipes all tears away”?
If I were never weary, could I keep
This blessed truth, “He gives His loved ones sleep”?
If no grave were mine, I might come to deem
The Life Eternal but a baseless dream.
My winter, and my tears, and weariness,
Even my grave, may be His way to bless.
I called them ills; yet that can surely be
Nothing but love that shows my Lord to me!
—Anonymous
Craig T. Owens 
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