The Giver of All

We often cling to what we claim
Our time, our treasure, even name.
We build and hoard, and plan with pride,
While God stands gently at our side.

We say, “This harvest, I have grown,”
Forgetting none of it’s our own.
Each gift we guard, each breath we take,
Is lent by Him—for Heaven’s sake.

He gives so we might pass it on,
To light a soul, to lift the dawn.
And when we yield with open hand,
He multiplies what we had planned.

It’s not the gold or grain we sow,
But love that makes the blessings grow.
The Spirit whispers, soft and true:
“There’s someone there—this gift’s for you.”

So let us walk with eyes aware,
Of need and sorrow, pain and prayer.
And trust that joy will overflow,
When grace through giving starts to flow.

Not ours to keep, but ours to share
The riches of His loving care.
For everything is His above
And He repays with joy and love.

For God’s Honor and Glory
MarkWaldrop