Sometimes, when I am quite alone and still,
The Spirit speaks and whispers words of truth:
That I am not the master of your youth
And was not called to bend you to my will.
A boat is life, a vessel in the gale
Tossed by the wind and driven through the night;
A hapless cutter, searching for the light
That used to dance and shimmer on a sail
Once bright and proud, bedraggled now, and pale.
A ship fades from our view; we wave good-bye.
Her sails grow small, then vanish from the sky.
And sorrowing, we bow our heads, and then
we mourn that sight we long to see again.
They came to do Him honor,
weary-faced, and
stonily,
their footsteps traced
the path
to where He lay.
High on the mountain’s rocky crest,
an eagle soars to make its nest––
surrounded by nature’s majesty,
riding the wind so strong and free.
Leather, binding
onion skin
paper, fragile,
wafer~thin.
Daughters of God – What glory is inherent in that title!
Offspring of an eternal being, what role could be more vital?
But there is more – our Father loves us individually,
for once we walked and talked with Him, and gathered at His knee.
If you make the Lord your lighthouse,
He will guide your passage through
every shallow, rocky channel
till the harbor is in view.