Worship And Worry Cannot Live In The

My Job Is To Take Care Of The Possible And To Trust God With The Impossible.

If I Marry: He Must Be So Tall That When He Is On His Knees, As One Has Said He Reaches All The Way To Heaven. His Shoulders Must Be Broad Enough To Bear The Burden Of A Family. His Lips Must Be Strong Enough To Smile, Firm Enough To Say No, And Tender Enough To Kiss. Love Must Be So Deep That It Takes Its Stand In Christ And So Wide That It Takes The Whole Lost World In. He Must Be Active Enough To Save Souls. He Must Be Big Enough To Be Gentle And Great Enough To Be Thoughtful. His Arms Must Be Strong Enough To Carry A Little Child.

If I Cannot Give My Children A Perfect Mother I Can At Least Give Them More Of The One They've Got--and Make That One More Loving. I Will Be Available. I Will Take Time To Listen, Time To Play, Time To Be Home When They Arrive From School, Time To Counsel And Encouerage.

Worship And Worry Cannot Live In The Same Heart: They Are Mutually Exclusive.

Dear God, I Prayed, All Unafraid (as We're Inclined To Do), I Do Not Need A Handsome Man But Let Him Be Like You; I Do Not Need One Big And Strong Nor Yet So Very Tall, Nor Need He Be Some Genius, Or Wealthy, Lord, At All; But Let His Head Be High, Dear God, And Let His Eye Be Clear, His Shoulders Straight, Whate'er His State, Whate'er His Earthly Sphere; And Let His Face Have Character, A Ruggedness If Soul, And Let His Whole Life Show, Dear God, A Singleness Of Goal; Then When He Comes (as He Will Come) With Quiet Eyes Aglow, I'll Understand That He's The Man I Prayed For Long Ago.