little, mysterious ways

The big picture is so hard to comprehend sometimes.
So if I remember to, I sit back and admire the little pieces of it.
Answers to prayer in ways I'd never dreamed. How He takes the thorn, more like a tree limb sharpened by years of bitterness and hard living, and shows you how fragile it really is. How it needs soft answers in response to the biting stings and prods. How the knots that tangle me inwardly can be slowly picked apart by His gentle fingers, and how easy it then is to just lean back into those arms. And He'll work on the thorn, that sharply honed tree limb. All I have to do is pray for the complete healing of this one I love but hate to be around. He's in control of it all.
Gentle reminders. Mysterious ways.