And gold puffed away like dust
Where gossamer ribbons floated
Void of cobwebs, grime, or rust.
I was cleaning Heaven’s attic
In a mansion up the street,
And the memories I uncovered
Were sprawled there at my feet.
I found bits of joy and blessings
And a trunk filled up with hope,
And tied with string, a word of thanks
I found albums filled with photographs
Of smiling faces, laughter,
And the bliss of each July.
I pulled back a big white sheet
That was draped over a chair
The very place I’d talked with God
And come to him in prayer.
And there stacked so neatly to one side,
All my ministries in a line—
The children’s work, the choir,
Then in the farthest corner,
Behind every happy thought,
I found a box tucked in the back
Some things that I’d forgot.
Recalling now what was inside,
All my hurts and disappointments
And the things I’d tried to hide.
These don’t belong in heaven
In a place that knows no tears.
I thought to throw the box away,
But paused and drew it near.
I sorted through the contents,
Setting each thing down with care,
And my story then unfolded
With each trifle I found there.
I found a heart once broken
By injustice, hurts and wrongs,
Now mended. Though the scar still showed,
The pulse was beating strong.
There were dreams that I had clung to
Thinking this must be God’s will.
I could see now, had they worked out,
I would be unhappy still.
There were lists of prayers unanswered
When it seemed God wouldn’t speak.
Now reading through the tear stains,
It was I who was too weak.
The times God left me hanging
While He blessed my fellow man,
If only I’d been patient,
I’d have seen His glorious plan.
I looked across the remnants
Of the failures, loss, and pain,
And I wondered at God’s foresight
As I saw His grace so plain.
All the hurts I’d held so tightly,
Now through heaven-altered eyes,
Were the blessings God had giv’n me,
Were the treasures in disguise.