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Wounded Bird

Our Daily Bread

"Once I heard a song of sweetness as it cleft the morning air, sounding in its blest completeness like a tender, pleading prayer. And I sought to find the singer whence the wondrous song was borne, and I found a bird sore wounded, pinioned by a cruel thorn.

I have seen a soul in sadness while its wings with pain were furled, giving hope and cheer and gladness that should bless a weeping world. And I knew that life of sweetness was of pain and sorrow borne, and a stricken soul was singing with its heart against a thorn.

We are told of cruel scourging, of a Savior bearing scorn, and He died for your salvation with His brow against a thorn. You are not above the Master. Will you breathe a sweet refrain? Then His grace will be sufficient when your heart is pierced with pain."