When I woke up I didn’t know
What all I’d face today.
I had no way of bracing for
What life might throw my way.
Its blossoms bright and sweet.
Yet, just below, there lie the thorns,
And they are not discreet.
To smell its pleasant scent,
Only to catch hold of a thorn,
Your flesh, bloody and rent.
But a rose is a rose.
You take the beauty with the thorns,
Because that’s how life goes.
But each day brings a choice.
Count up your troubles, all those thorns,
Or just choose to rejoice.
This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice
and be glad in it.
Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice.
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