The Diary of an Old Soul

A Dear Friend recommended this book to me so I bought it.  It wasn't quite what I was expecting, but I have really enjoyed it!  It is by George MacDonald (How can you go wrong there?!) and is 366 poems.  One for each day of the year.

Here are a couple that were really soothing the other day after the news of the ranch.

'Tis that I am not good--that is enough;
I pry no farther--that is not the way.
Here, O my potter, is they making stuff!
Set thy wheel going; let it whir and play.
The chips in me, the stones, the straws, the sand,
Cast them out with fine separating hand,
And make a vessel of Thy yielding clay.

Only, my God, see thou that I content Thee-
Oh, take thy own content upon me, God!
Ah, never, never, sure, wilt thou repent thee,
That thou hast called thy Adam from the clod!
Yet must I mourn that thou shouldst ever find me
One moment sluggish, needing more of the rod
Than thou didst think when thy desire designed me.

Isn't that beautiful?  It sets so many things back into perspective.  It doesn't help the ache, but it does make you realize that every scratch and hurt is just making a beautiful design that only the Master can see.
If you haven't read George MacDonald I really recommend him.  Even his fiction have many nuggets of gold to chew and think upon. 

Blessings!
Rebecca