A Precious Stone
“I asked for bread: God gave a stone instead.
Yet while I pillowed there my weary head,
The angels made a ladder of my dreams,
Which upward to celestial mountains led.
And when I woke, beneath the morning’s beams,
Around my resting place fresh manna lay;
And, praising God, I went upon my way.
For I was fed.” – J. R. Miller
This poem is from his short devotional work The Master’s Blesseds which is a short yet profound look into the beatitudes of our Lord.