Questions & Answers
The Word of God is bringing reassurance That all is well in every height and deep; This truth sustains the prophet in endurance, That there is wealth for men which they can keep. Men gather things which with the using perish, They build their hopes like phantoms in the air; They see the fading of the loves they cherish, They cannot find a respite from their care.
When outward semblance paints a scene unkind, No intuitions of the Life divine appear, No outward joy is viewed afar or near, We turn for inspiration to pure Mind. Within Love's sanctum heavenly light we find, Glad music, hymns of praise, inspiring, dear, Thoughts of the victories won, Truth conquering fear, The realm of Soul, with radiant peace entwined.
She stood alone upon the rock of Truth, And scanned the pale horizon's distant rim; The waves of malice, like the ocean deep, Dashed fierce and high, and flung their warnings grim. The lightnings flashed; the thunder roared and rolled; The elements of evil warred on good; And earthquake, fire, and tempest's breath passed by, But could not shake the rock on which she stood.
I close the door, no light of sun or lantern Is here to guide my way; I reach into the silence and the darkness, I wait and watch and pray. I still the clamor of insistent voices, All restless worldly strife; Then round me grows a wide and boundless silence, Within a quickening life.
These gifts I sought to make my own, Expectantly: To gracious be, That I might sweetly do the task So near to me; That I might never be too deep entwined With daily care, Nor overlook the small, kind deeds That make life fair. And when desire was satisfied, At least achieved in part, Lo! there a precious, pure behest Lay in my hand without request— An understanding heart!
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.