I found this lovely poem while I was reading one day. It is very thought provoking. Enjoy!
-Elizabeth
If we could for a moment to ourselves portray
All hope removed --hope which pertains to God--
How black and awful would the picture be!
How blank the future! yea, how aimless life!
What turning of the tide of better thoughts!
What chaos! ruin! what despair! But oh,
The God of mercy hath not left us thus!
For is not Christ our hope? yea, more,
The precious pledge of all we hope to have?
Earth's hopes are fleeting, and the fondest dreamed
Could never satisfy the longing soul.
How many a soul, all tempest-tossed, and cast
Upon the shoals of disappointed hope,
Turns, in the bitter loss of earthly prize,
To Christ, and sure and everlasting gain!
Life, at least, looks bright and hopeful
To the young and strong.
Forgetting all things bear the stamp of death,
That this is not our home,
And God must needs make new this blighted earth,
The treacherous heart lusts here and there,
And grasps with eager hold some object coveted.
And so, like children who must needs be checked
In wants most hurtful, and undue desires,
Our Father oft breaks up our much-loved plan,
Or lays our idols in the dust:
And then, if not submissive, comes the storm.
He must accomplish what He will
In His unwilling child.
What folly now it seems, as we look back,
And see how once we dared to fight
Against the Lord!-- the worm to quarrel
With the One who made the universe!
Yet so it was; so foolish are our thoughts;
And all because we could not have our way.
No man e'er wrestled with the mighty God,
And came off conqueror: He must the battle win!
And when the storm is passed,
And we have learned to trust His love
As much as we had feared His power,
We'll thank Him that He took such pains,
Through discipline and patient care,
To teach us that His love was on our side.
For though to break our wills must often break our
hearts,
'Tis well; for then we fly to Him; --
And who can bind the broken heart but Christ?
Then, in the quiet of a heart at peace with God,
We rest, and, like a weaned child,
Accept the firm restraint, nor doubt the love
That ministers the pain.
Then we can seek His way with singleness of heart,
And, waiting, work His will.
Experience works by patience in the soul,
And sorrowful indeed it oft must be
To work in us the fruit the Master craves.
But then, the heart that's weaned from the earth looks up,
And hope displaces all solicitude, and we are free
To wait the changing tide of this life's troubled sea,
Now tossed no longer by its turbid waves;
But patient wait upon the rugged shore,
And, though it cover all our heart held dear,
We gladly count our loss our gain,
Because we have a better hope beyond.
The furnace we so dread but burns the bands,
Which hold us down to earth and dim our faith.
Then let us walk with Him; if on the troubled sea
Or though affliction's fire, yet still with Him;
And while we give Him thanks for mercies by the
way,
For sweet companionships and tender ties,
To soothe our pains and make the way less drear,
We'd hold these gifts as though they were not ours,
But His, and weep as though we wept not
For joy of that bright hope
Which lifts the heart above this blighted scene,
Where sorrow's school and disappointment's blast
Have weaned us, once for all, to wait for Him
In whom is all our hope.
Fulfill to us, ere long,
That soul-entrancing word,
Which thrills our hearts with joyful song, -
"Forever with the Lord!"
-poem by H. Mc D.
From "Help and Food for the Household of Faith" Vol. XIV
Published 1896 by Loizeaux Brothers
-Elizabeth
If we could for a moment to ourselves portray
All hope removed --hope which pertains to God--
How black and awful would the picture be!
How blank the future! yea, how aimless life!
What turning of the tide of better thoughts!
What chaos! ruin! what despair! But oh,
The God of mercy hath not left us thus!
For is not Christ our hope? yea, more,
The precious pledge of all we hope to have?
Earth's hopes are fleeting, and the fondest dreamed
Could never satisfy the longing soul.
How many a soul, all tempest-tossed, and cast
Upon the shoals of disappointed hope,
Turns, in the bitter loss of earthly prize,
To Christ, and sure and everlasting gain!
Life, at least, looks bright and hopeful
To the young and strong.
Forgetting all things bear the stamp of death,
That this is not our home,
And God must needs make new this blighted earth,
The treacherous heart lusts here and there,
And grasps with eager hold some object coveted.
And so, like children who must needs be checked
In wants most hurtful, and undue desires,
Our Father oft breaks up our much-loved plan,
Or lays our idols in the dust:
And then, if not submissive, comes the storm.
He must accomplish what He will
In His unwilling child.
What folly now it seems, as we look back,
And see how once we dared to fight
Against the Lord!-- the worm to quarrel
With the One who made the universe!
Yet so it was; so foolish are our thoughts;
And all because we could not have our way.
No man e'er wrestled with the mighty God,
And came off conqueror: He must the battle win!
And when the storm is passed,
And we have learned to trust His love
As much as we had feared His power,
We'll thank Him that He took such pains,
Through discipline and patient care,
To teach us that His love was on our side.
For though to break our wills must often break our
hearts,
'Tis well; for then we fly to Him; --
And who can bind the broken heart but Christ?
Then, in the quiet of a heart at peace with God,
We rest, and, like a weaned child,
Accept the firm restraint, nor doubt the love
That ministers the pain.
Then we can seek His way with singleness of heart,
And, waiting, work His will.
Experience works by patience in the soul,
And sorrowful indeed it oft must be
To work in us the fruit the Master craves.
But then, the heart that's weaned from the earth looks up,
And hope displaces all solicitude, and we are free
To wait the changing tide of this life's troubled sea,
Now tossed no longer by its turbid waves;
But patient wait upon the rugged shore,
And, though it cover all our heart held dear,
We gladly count our loss our gain,
Because we have a better hope beyond.
The furnace we so dread but burns the bands,
Which hold us down to earth and dim our faith.
Then let us walk with Him; if on the troubled sea
Or though affliction's fire, yet still with Him;
And while we give Him thanks for mercies by the
way,
For sweet companionships and tender ties,
To soothe our pains and make the way less drear,
We'd hold these gifts as though they were not ours,
But His, and weep as though we wept not
For joy of that bright hope
Which lifts the heart above this blighted scene,
Where sorrow's school and disappointment's blast
Have weaned us, once for all, to wait for Him
In whom is all our hope.
Fulfill to us, ere long,
That soul-entrancing word,
Which thrills our hearts with joyful song, -
"Forever with the Lord!"
-poem by H. Mc D.
From "Help and Food for the Household of Faith" Vol. XIV
Published 1896 by Loizeaux Brothers
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