Questions & Answers
Giving , ever giving, For what is Thine is mine; Striving, ever striving, To further Thy design! Seeking, ever seeking, For so our Lord hath willed; Finding, ever finding, The promise is fulfilled! Praying, ever praying, For humble is my heart; Serving, ever serving, For 'tis the Christlike part! Loving, ever loving, For Love is Life divine; Saying, ever saying, Thy will, dear Lord, not mine!
On that sunlit day in Gilgal, the man Of God gave his command—not his, but Love's— "Seethe pottage. " Sons of prophets, meekly come To hear Elisha speak of God—these must be fed, If they would feed the famishing, for dearth Was in the land.
And when he saw that they would make him king, He left the multitudes and went his way. The sun was sinking, and the mountains seemed To catch in their high peaks its last warm ray, And flood the path he trod with burnished gold; Then Jesus was alone, and it was night.
Blest place, where God's ideas abide And sense doth ne'er hold sway; With Life replete, by Truth illumed, And set in Love alway! Built not by cunning craftsmen's art, Nor yet of stone or wood, But of pure thoughts God doth erect The consciousness of good. Heaven's harmonies are free to all Who Spirit's mansion find; In Soul's abode they safely dwell, At one with perfect Mind.
All human needs Thy love will ever meet: Father, engraft this truth within our heart, That we from Thee can never dwell apart. True man—Thine image—perfect, whole, complete, Suffers no lack.
O goodman of the house where Jesus came With his disciples on that holy day, The Passover to keep, how great your joy When at your house the Master chose to stay! I wonder if you knew, when you prepared That upper room and furnished it with care, That he who could discern the thoughts of men Would find one day a sanctuary there! He may have known that sweet humility, Faith, love, and gratitude sincere and deep Had filled your heart, and thus had made your home A hallowed place, the Passover to keep. A simple story—yet to thought illumed, Profound with meaning.
Help me, dear God, that I forget The piercing sting of every thorn, The darkest night without a star, Ingratitude and idle scorn. Help me, dear God, lest I forget Thy blessings given from day to day, True friends reflecting Love divine, Whose words bring cheer along the way.
Father, when dawns the day in seeming sadness— Shadows around, and fondest hopes depressed— Lift Thou our thoughts to find in Thee new gladness; Calmed by Thy love reflected—healed and blessed. No grief can wound the heart on Truth relying; No sickness quench the wholeness Truth makes clear.
Sometimes beneath a desert tree One sits in deepest gloom and night, When lo! an angel touches him, And bids him go to Horeb height. On Horeb, waiting patiently, Yet scarcely hoping to rejoice, Above the earthquake, fire, and wind, He hears in awe the "still small voice.
We are not losing anything When leaves desert the trees, With every passing breeze; They are but making way for spring, When fresh, green leaves on opening Will spread new canopies. When outgrown concepts slip away We feel no loss of good, Because we know they should Make room for those that lend each day Their fresh, new vigor, that they may Inspire true humanhood.