Hopefully it's true

Victory In Defeat

by Edwin Markham

Defeat may serve as well as victory

To shake the soul and let the glory out.

When the great oak is straining in the wind,

The boughs drink in new beauty,

and the trunk

Sends down a deeper root on the windward side.

Only the soul that knows the mighty grief

Can know the mighty rapture.

Sorrows come

To stretch out spaces in the heart for joy.

Little Boy Poem

I could see this on a scrapbook page, so I'm saving it here.
Little Boys
Author: Unknown
Little boys come in all shapes and sizes, Shy and adventurous, full of surprises, With misshapen halos and mischievous grins, Small dirty faces, and sweet, sticky chins. They'll keep you so busy, and yet all the while Nothing can brighten the world like their smile. And no greater treasure has brought homes more joy Than a curious, active, and lovable boy!

Advice for me

Do the Next Thing(a poem quoted by Elizabeth Elliot)

At an old English parsonage down by the sea,
There came in the twilight a message to me.
Its quaint Saxon legend deeply engraven
That, as it seems to me, teaching from heaven.
And all through the hours the quiet words ring,
Like a low inspiration,
do the next thing.
Many a questioning, many a fear,
Many a doubt hath its quieting here.
Moment by moment, let down from heaven,
Time, opportunity, and guidance are given.
Fear not tomorrows, child of the King,
Trust them with Jesus, do the next thing.
Do it immediately, do it with prayer;
Do it reliantly, casting all care.
Do it with reverence, tracing His hand,
Who placed it before thee with earnest command.
Stayed on Omnipotence, safe ‘neath His wing,
Leave all results, do the next thing.
Looking to Jesus, ever serener,
Working or suffering be thy demeanor;
In His dear presence, the rest of His calm,
The light of His countenance, be thy psalm,
Strong in His faithfulness, praise and sing.
Then, as He beckons, do the next thing.

Certainly describes my house

Excuse the House

Some Houses try to hide the fact
That children shelter there;
Ours boasts of it quite openly,
The signs are everywhere.
For smears are on the windows,
Little smudges on the doors;
I should apologize, I guess,
For toys strewn on the floor.
But I sat down with the children
And we played and laughed and read;
And if the doorbell doesn't shine,
Their eyes will shine instead.
For when at times
I'm forced to choose
The one job or another;
I'd like to cook and clean and scrub,
But first I'll be a mother.

-Author unknown, for now!