God gives me the words,
To write on my pad;
The words of joy
Or words when I'm sad.

He never told me of this,
When all the words I took
Would be put together
To build a treasure, a book.

Now there's a permanent record,
Of a woman in this life;
How she loved and struggled,
How she made it through strife.

The Lord has blessed me again,
As a person in this world;
He leads me as a woman,
As He did when a girl.

When I look at this book,
It's hard not to have pride;
But I know the words are His,
I'm only on the ride.

If the book doesn't sell,
I'll never complain;
For the words within the pages,
Are what often kept me sane.