He Leads

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jun 30, 1910

IN pastures green? — Not always; sometimes He Who knoweth best, in kindness leadeth me In weary ways where heavy shadows be.

Out of the sunshine warm and soft and bright, Out of the day into the scowling night,— I oft could faint, with sorrow and affright,

Only for this; I know he holds my hand; So whether in a green or desert land, I trust, although I may not understand.

And by still waters? — No, not always so. Ofttimes the heavy tempests round me blow, And o’er my soul the waves and billows go.

But when the storms beat loudest, and I cry Aloud for help, the Master standeth by, And whispereth to my soul, “Lo! it is I.”

Above the tempest wild I hear him say, “Beyond this darkness lies the perfect day; In every path of thine I lead the way.”

So, whether high upon the hilltop fair I dwell, or in the sunless valley where The shadows lie — what matters? He is there.

And more than this — where’er the pathway lead, He giveth me no helpless, broken reed, But his own hand, sufficient for my need.

So where he leads me, I can safely go; And in the blest hereafter I shall know Why in his wisdom he hath led me so.

— Selected.