Questions & Answers
Vainly I wandered when my thoughts Were filled with sin and worldly taint; I did not find Thee in the wind, Or in the cyclone's roaring plaint; But when a sorrow drenched my heart, I turned from worldliness, and knew That all my treasure made of clay But hid Thy goodness from my view. I did not find Thee in the storm, Or in the thunder's roar of fright; I found Thee when earth's hope was gone.
If thou, my son, thy love to prove art willing, Then take the task that by thee lies, The one just there, just at thy side, The one so trivial in thine eyes, The one you've seen, but never tried, Yet, there it waits, thy love to prove. Art willing?
Ah ! could we only rise and see The bliss of being, Love, with Thee, We would leave aught that comes between Us and the vision we have seen, As easily as on a day When summer breezes pass her way, And honey bee, The rose beside my garden wall Lets one white petal lift—and fall!
The holy Book of books was Love-inspired: How else could simple messages lift hearts On strong, brave, soaring wings when they are tired With fret and fear; how else could broken parts Of sentences shine out with sudden light To show the way for weary, wandering feet; How else could mere descriptive words bloom bright With healing phrases, beautiful and sweet? Now in the place where he was crucified There was a garden, John thus briefly wrote; A simple fact, and yet one reading cried For joy because his thought was stirred to note A glorious thing that Love would have us know: That right where hate has raised a cruel cross There is a garden where we all may go On lifted thought to purge our hearts of dross And love our fellow man; then, praying, bring A victory out of each hard circumstance— A garden where, like birds, our hearts may sing, Our faith shine out like sunlight's radiant glance, Our hope bud new, and where, like bending sky, Love broods forever with a watchful eye.
Dear Father-Mother, God, to Thee I lift my thought eternally. Help me to give the highest and the best To those dear ones who find their way oppressed With fear and doubt.
Be patient, and earth's dull, drab hues will gleam with hint of gold; Be loving, and God's love for you will bring you joy untold; Be pure, and heaven's glories now will to your sight unfold.
A heavy shadow on my path I see, I gaze upon it, and I wonder why This gloomy darkness should appear to me Still looking down I sigh, And darker yet that shadow seems to be. Now I look up, and let my heart abound In thoughts of gratitude for blessings given, Nor saunter idly, eyes upon the ground.
Dear God, the work Thou gavest me to do Is mine alone—none other may perform, Or ever know its plan. And if I do it not today, it stands a barrier O'er which I cannot pass until the task is done And Thou be satisfied.
Let us forget imagined wrongs, Our lips use but for joyous songs Today In praise of Him who, ever near, With tender love holds each one dear Alway. And praising God, divinely fed, We find our thoughts are never led Astray; Each day unfolds, and we are His, For when tomorrow comes it is Today.
Oh , blest is he who wavers not, When evil makes it seem That only ill shall be his lot, And good is but a dream. By faith he quiet stands, unmoved When evil would alarm, He is of heaven the well-beloved And nothing can him harm.