Along the way I stop to see
If I can find the why of me
The "who am I" that's deep inside
The real me that tries to hide
But out I peek so you can glimpse
Now and again, just by chance
The curtain slips, defenses down
And for a moment, there I am
The who, the how, the why of me
To all but God, a mystery.
We can truly be successful only in the work to which we have been called.The work is not ours.It is God's, and we are privileged to be worked through by God . . .How foolish, then, for anyone to think and proclaim that he has a certain work to do for God.God may have a certain work to do through him, that is if he is sufficiently humble, but that is quite a different thing . . .