On His Blindness
When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
'Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?'
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: 'God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts; who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly: thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.'
I often ask,(or shout,) "What good am I to you, Lord, in this sick and fatigued condition?"
I'm learning; and begging for the grace for contentedness in bearing His mild yoke and standing and waiting.
1 comment:
Hi! Someone in an adoption group I belong to recently wrote in to comfort another, telling about a book she had read, and I thought it was a pretty neat thought, so here's what she said....
"It talked about how each of us are really an actor or actress in a play of God's choosing for us to bring glory to Him. Some are in comedy's, some in dramas, some in tragedy, some in documentaries etc. You can't compare the type or plot. But our responsibility is to be faithful to our "role" in our "play" so as to bring honor and glory to Him so others will want to know Him."
Take care.
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