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I woke up early one morning,
And rushed right into the day,
I had so much to accomplish,
That I didnít have time to pray.



Problems just tumbled about me,
And heavier came each task,
"Why doesnít God help me? "I wondered,
He answered, "You didnít ask."



I wanted to see joy and beauty,
But the day toiled on, grey and bleak,
I wondered why God didnít show me,
He said, "That you didnít seek."



I tried to come into Godís presence,
I used all my keys at the lock,
God gently and lovingly chided,
"My child you didnít knock."



I woke up early his morning,
And paused before entering the day,
I had so much to accomplish,
That I had to take time to pray.



© Copyright
Grace L Naessens
1960



Image By Dark Blue Knight

The Story Behind This Poem



Although this poem appears in many places and cards, including on a plaque I have at home, without any Author, it was in fact written by Grace Naessens in 1960. Below is part of a comment quoted as written, by the Author about the story behind the poem.







I would like to give you a little back ground how the poem came into being. Back in early 1960 after getting my four sons fed and ready for the day, I began my house work duties. For some reason I laid a pencil and paper on the cupboard and began by work. I returned to the paper several times to enter another line.

I later typed the poem to a paper and put it in a shoe box with some other poems I had written. I never corrected the grammar, nor rewrote any of the poem. It was forgotten.

Years passed. My second son, Chris was given a homework assignment, which was to write a poem. Chris sort of borrowed one of mom's.

A few weeks later Chris confessed his deed and was proud to inform me his teacher thought my work was good and knew where it could be published. I was very embarrassed and put the poem back in the box and again it was forgotten.

Later, "The Difference" began showing up in local newspapers, then magazines. Now it is all over the world. I feel the true author of the poem is our Heavenly Father. I was only the instrument that held the pen.

I lost my husband, Leo, to cancer a few years ago. In the last few months of his life he asked me to try to have my name put on my poem, "The Difference." He said it belongs there and he wanted me to try. I promised him I would. This letter is part of that promise. I have written other pieces which I hope to have published soon.

In God's Love, Grace L. Naessens

Image By Dark Blue Knight





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