Questions & Answers

Disclosing Life eternal, Devoid of shade or time, The Christmas light is shining For every age and clime. A constant Christmas have we, A never-ending day, With Christ forever present In Truth's eternal way.

" Until the morning light ye shall not go Out at the door. Upon the lintel, on The two side posts the blood shall be.

Let not the idle word be spoken— The word that does not spring From heart's sincerity; Nor let one write a sentence Bold beyond the standard of his proving. Words spoken thoughtlessly are void, Meaningless phrases that are born to die.

Here where I stand is holy ground whereon To prove God present is—potent to save From war, destruction, fear, or mortal wave Of panic, and to know He guards His own. Why seek for place more safe against the test? Can there be spot where Life and Love have waned? Where evil threatens men with lie, profaned, That God is not all-power, made manifest? Nay—nor shall baseless fear engulf my heart, For safe he shall abide who makes his prayer A consciousness of God's eternal care, Denying unto error place or part.

In reflection is protection; This is God's decree. There's no danger, harm, or stranger When I walk with Thee.

A word came from the Lord: "What doest thou here, Elijah? Rise and eat, lest thou shouldst find The task too great, the journeying too far. " He rose, casting away discouragement That almost seemed despair.

Beloved Leader! Could my heart forget A love so deep and warm, unselfed and pure, The whole wide world grows richer in your debt For God revealed as tender, near, and sure? What harried, hurried sense could half prevail Against this earnest, real, and swift desire? My duty to my Leader shall not fail Through doubt or gloom, through grief or testing fire. For gratitude is such a living thing It springs to joyous action in the Cause You founded—Christian Science, pledged to bring Mankind's release from cruel creeds and laws.

Home is where'er the Father-Mother God, The Lord of peace and permanence, abides. Whatever paths in weariness we plod, Home is the haven where the heart confides Its need of Him, and in unceasing prayer, Turning from paths where mortal fancies roam.

I have my place in Mind, A sure retreat. No hasting feet From out the byways of sin's arrogance, No discord from that alley blind Where, to and fro, ambition's thralls compete, My heavenly peace can find.

Can it be true the Master prayed for me? Dear God, how gracious are Thy mercies free! He, the Beloved, strong and unafraid, Facing the cross—yet with those seeing eyes Beholding, just beyond, the victory won— Stayed for a moment in his heavenward course To pray for those who followed him, e'en there, Then prayed for me. On through the ages does that prayer ascend To intercede for them ''which shall believe.