"Father, I will go," I said;
"At Your bidding I will venture out, and will do Your will;
Perform all things diligently at Your behest,
Relinquish my own desires, reservations, deepest yearnings,
To do Your will, Yours only.
I will travel to whatever far country You send me,
Leaving home and hearth, kith and loving kin,
Sheltered garden, worn paths, known ways,
Loved landmarks, safe grooves, sure resting places.
Only when all is done, correctly, and as You have bidden,
Only then will I return to the familiar places,
Lay up my staff, slip sandals, and feel the glow,
The peaceful glow of having been obedient."
That's what I said, Father, and I meant it.
I said: "Here am I, and I will do Your will, and come home again."
But I have found that Your will has become my own,
And my home is wherever You are, and You are everywhere;
And the only certain rest is in working for You.
I am grateful, Father, for the old ways and the old places and
the dear past;
They were stepping-stones to uplands of spiritual seeing.
I would not change them, but I would not return to them either.
I would go onward, and outward, and upward,
Staff in hand, and my other hand in Yours;
I would be a forever prophet, discerning Your allness,
Your goodness and mercy, omnipotence and omnipresence.
I would travel in the encouraging company of prophets,
And encourage others to join in the company with us,
Till all are prophesying, one to another in gladness,
And earth is filled with the effect of every vision.
