Charity, The Pure Love of Christ
©1993 Susan Noyes Anderson, Star Light, Star Books, Inc.
Will our hearts ever know the love
That does not count the loss;
That bows itself beneath our sin
And suffers on the cross;
Will our hearts ever know the love
That does not count the loss;
That bows itself beneath our sin
And suffers on the cross;
I thought I walked this earth alone,
beneath my burdens bowed,
until I found I could not bear
their weight and cried aloud.
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.