The Box
by Kate Martin © 2004

God was in the box.
At least, I thought He was.
I found, I could not keep Him there.

I had it all figured out.
He was mean and out to get me.
After all, I was pretty bad you know.
And people always told me so.

He wanted me to suffer, it seemed.
He wanted me to be miserable, it seemed.
You know, when He is in the box, the lid is shut tight.
You never look in to see the light.

As I carried my box around, I was sad
Just knowing life was so hard,
The burdens so great... my box was so heavy,
My box, I carried God in.

Then, one day carrying my box, it was so heavy
I just had to set it down....I had to peek inside
Just to make sure that God was really in there.
When I looked I found He was not there at all.

My box was so full and so heavy, yet God was not there.
He was too big for my little box.