Questions & Answers
Stumbling, I halt, Not knowing how to pray. And yet, what matter if the words I say Seem impotent or groping as a child's? True thought is prayer, And thought when undefiled Is known to Him: Each humble deed and each unselfed desire, Each thought that to the perfect shall aspire, Each tender yearning to include all men In universal love! Perfected, then, My prayer.
Think not, O sentry in the dark Of dismal hours that know no light, That you must stand your watch alone; God watches with you in the night. No fear can cause His hand to fall, No weariness can dim His sight.
" Consider the lilies how they grow. " Is the message enough? Does it need explaining? It would seem sometimes from our heavy straining That we never heard it, or else the tongue Is a tongue we do not know.
I shall be busy, though my hands In idleness may stay; I shall be active and well filled With joy this shining day. No fragment of a golden hour Shall drift to barren end; I shall rejoice in holy thought For stranger, foe, and friend.
Truth does not change, No matter where the scene Or time may be. Within the boundless range Of ever-present Love and Life There is no bitter strife, No war-torn land and sea.
Rejoicing in the light which guides my way, And thus beholding God's eternal day, I feel a mighty power which shall endure; I therefore live in quietness—secure. No more shall sorrow grow where healing peace Has brought from pain and sickness sure release.
Oh , turn from error's contemplation; Leave past mistakes and fears behind; With truer, purer consecration Look deep into the perfect Mind. In Mind alone is satisfaction, And healing for all earthly woe; For Mind, the source of every action, Can never pain or discord know.
So after many days the healing came to Job When he prayed for his friends. How much more freedom might we gain If we too prayed, as Jesus prayed, For all mankind; If we forgave our friends and enemies, Saw them as we would have ourselves be seen.
I looked into the east. A mountain rose Majestic, crowned with purest white; But on the instant, as I gazed, it warmed Into a rosy glow, a rich irradiance Which drew all eyes to feast on beauty.
" Ye must be born again," the Master said. And there, on that dark roof top in the East, The wondering Nicodemus heard and mused: How.