Obituary of Ray Joe Hussey
Joy Cometh In The Morning
There must be thorns amid life’s flowers you know
And you and I wherever we may go,
Can find no bliss that is not mixed with pain –
No path without a cloud. It would be vain
For me to wish that not a single tear
Might dim the gladness that you hold so dear.
I am not wise enough to understand
All that is best for you. The master’s hand
Must sometimes touch life’s saddest chords to reach
Its sweetest music and His child to teach
To trust His love, ‘till the long, weeping night
Is all forgotten in the morning light.
Trust – trust Him, then and thus shall good or ill
Your trustful soul with present blessing fill.
Each loss is truest gain if, day by day,
He fills the place of all he takes away.
From “Gleams of Glory.”
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