If I could pick some sunshine, and hold it in my hands,
If I could ride a rainbow to far-off radiant lands,
If I could sprinkle star-dust upon a restless sea,
Then I could read the riddle of why you’ve chosen me.
Ever the bridesmaid,
third wheel –
the Lover of your Soul
paints you beautiful,
veils you in Murano lace,
drapes your shoulders with diamonds,
parades you before your peers,
dressed head to toe in
The Plain becomes the Chosen Bride.
She dreams of warmth and hearth and home and children.
She blooms under Groom’s watchful expectancy;
His love and choosing make her alive and whole.
His gaze infuses hers with dignity and strength,
And her diet becomes his words.
And as Groom speaks Life into her soul,
Her beauty becomes the fruit
That will feed the the sons and daughters of earth…
The power of being chosen by God to fulfill a uniquely crafted purpose gives a woman true inner beauty – one that will not spoil or fade with time. Her source of power is in the assurance that she can do all things through Him who gives her strength. What she can bring to the world healed and whole, is unstoppable – a rich harvest with which to nourish a starving world…