Questions & Answers
To learn a little more of God each day, And in the learning joyfully discard The mortal thoughts that would obstruct the way, And all my upward-striving steps retard; To labor to ascend His holy hill Of consecration and of purity; To cast aside the rags of self that still Would bind their earthly tatters close to me; To help my brother on the long ascent, Unclasp his burdens, bathe his tired feet; Nor backward glance, nor question God's intent, But bravely meet each challenge to retreat; To walk serenely where His wisdom guides; To welcome every chastening of my heart, And on Him wait, no matter what betides— This is my part—this is my own great part!
Bowed by harsh labor and the body's pain, Or rendered cruel by the lust of gain; In mortal fear of death, yet seeking birth; In wanton profligacy, yet in dearth; Digging his grave where others' bones have been— Oh! tell us, Wisdom, with the brow serene, Can this be man? Ah, no! Can you not see? The veil is riven, Can you not glimpse the afterglow of heaven? The Adam-dream dissolves and fades away In the effulgence of eternal day. Sloughing the counterfeit, behold man rise, Radiant and splendid and with shining eyes, The son of God! This is the vision of reality, That was and is and evermore shall be.
"The mounting sense gathers fresh forms and strange fire from the ashes of dissolving self, and drops the world. "—Miscellaneous Writings by Mary Baker Eddy ( p.
God is so just. 0 weary heart, It matters not what mortal sense May seem to say; Serene in His heaven Your loving Father still holds sway.
Dear Father, I would gain the Christlike touch, The vision infinite that heals and frees. Our Master said the world had need of such To cast out error, discord, fear, disease.
Not by entreaty shall I ask For happiness to warm and light My daily journey's every task. My plea shall speak in kindly deeds, Forgetting self and human will, That meet with joy another's needs; In thought that, as the summer rain Drops sweet refreshment on the land, Can bring release from grief and pain; In consciousness of Love that lives In every pure and Christly hope, And increase of high purpose gives; In psalms, unframed by mortal tongue, That blessed healing shall bestow All earthly scenes of men among— Not in mere words! My journey trod, A living and unceasing prayer: A prayer of gratitude to God!
Ever alert to do his Lord's command, Whether to stand and wait, or forward go, He strives obediently, his staff in hand, To use the wisdom God doth e'er bestow, In all humility. With feet full-shod with peace, he thinks aright; Endued with faith, he knows that Truth divine Doth banish fear and shine through darkest night.
A friend gave it to me. What was the gift which came to thee, A cup of kindness and sweet sympathy, Red roses or a sprig of rosemary? A cheerful word, a helping hand— Small things we love and understand.
Along the pathway of my life Shadows appeared to me. I slower walked and pondered them, Darker they seemed to be.
How oftentimes he must have watched, With patient eyes and still, The shepherds guarding close their sheep Upon some lonely hill, The while he yearned to gather men— This shepherd long ago— Into his Father's pastures green, Where peaceful waters flow! How oft at eventide when flocks Came bleating to the fold Where they were safe from savage beasts, And wind, and storm, and cold, He must have thought of mansions bright With room enough for all, Would they but hear his tender voice, And follow at his call! I like to think of him today— This shepherd wise and kind— Who labored well that we, his sheep, Safe pasturage might find Within the Father's sheltered fields, Within the Father's care, Where winds are tempered when they blow, And lack is never there.