An Arrow In My Hand


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I used to wonder why the Lord would draw a likeness clear

between an arrow in the hand and little children dear.


Nor could I tell why He’d compare a parent blessed with child

to one who, with his quiver full, steps out into the wild.


But now that you have grown, I find I fully understand

why God would thus describe you as an arrow in my hand.


As arrows fly to places where the bowman cannot go,

so you have followed pathways that my feet will never know.


And, like an arrow, you have reached beyond my narrow sphere

to speak God’s love to many who my voice will never hear.


The marksman feels such pleasure as he watches from afar,

and I am overjoyed to see you serving as you are!


So now, to God’s comparison, I heartily attest—

and, watching as you serve the Lord, I feel supremely blest!


On this special day, I want you to know

how thankful I am for the privilege of being your parent!


Happy Birthday!


As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth.  Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them.  Psalm 127:4

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