EMPTY YOUR HANDS

One by one He took them from me,
All the things I valued most:
Until I was empty-handed,
Every glittering toy was lost.

And I walked earth's highways, grieving,
In my rage and poverty,
Till I heard His voice inviting,
"Lift your empty hands to me."

So I held my hands toward heaven
And He filled them with a store
Of His own transcendent riches
Until they could hold no more.

And at last I comprehended,
With my mind so dull,
That God could not pour His riches
Into hands already full.