Beliefnet

At last it's bedtime,
which means the bathroom sink
where my little regiment brushed their teeth
probably needs wiping.
Is it any wonder after all this wiping,
I'm the one who feels wiped?
Yet when I look back over my day,
and bow my head to You,
there's one last bit of wiping --
those tears of gratitude;
those shining jewels of thanks.
 
 
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