When times are all rosy and life’s going grand,
We think we’ve got everything right in our hand.
We boast of our blessings. We sparkle. We shine.
And quietly whisper, “These riches are mine.”
But faith that depends on fortune and fame
Soon forgets our Provider and thinks it’s a game.
The heart grows so heavy with gold-plated pride,
That there is little room for the Lord to reside.
Yet Jesus once said, in words clear and plain,
“The rich have a struggle that’s hard to explain.”
For camels and a needle’s eye don’t easily pair—
For pride can make Heaven feel far from there.
It’s easy to trust when the pantry is full,
When laughter is loud and the sky’s never dull.
But real faith is proven when comfort is gone,
When we cling to the Lord and still carry on.
So treasure your blessings, but hold them with care.
Let gratitude govern the wealth you should share.
Lord, the richest of hearts are the humble and true,
The people who know every good gift is from you.
