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God and His Picture

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Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Apr 28, 1903

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 80, No. 17.

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God and His Picture

By F. W. Orde Ward

God is busy up above, Getting all his colors ready, Mixed of sunlight, dew, and love! He is strong, and he is steady, Only in this world of change, With its story old but strange. Earth is waiting for the Picture Yet in shadow, shy and coy, Like a maiden's modest joy; Weary of the stress and stricture Laid upon it in the storm, By the ice and iron frost, It puts on a fairer form, And refuses any staying; Lo, the branches' hands are crost As in worship and with praying.
God is busy up above If our faithless hearts are fainting; And the snowdrop from its glove Bursting, shows that he is painting. And the crocus, too, like fire, Now is clothed in his attire. All the leaves will soon be laughing, Needless of the woes they had, Just because they feel so glad; And their little lips are quaffing Life, and liberty, and bliss; Singing, singing, as they say, God can nothing do amiss, And is ever for us toiling; We must fondly praise and pray, While he washes off our soiling.
God is busy up above, He upon the earth keeps printing Tenderly, in brooding dove, Bleating lamb, and blossom's tinting, And the breezes' perfumed feet, Everywhere his portrait sweet. It is written for our reading, Like a riddle broad and plain, Come to perfectness through pain, For our light and for our leading, With a blessing in each hue. Every line is gay and good, Every touch divinely true; O, the features, pure and pleasant, Of the wondrous Fatherhood, Always love and always present.
God is busy up above, Shedding flowers on hill and hollow. As his colors meet and move, Calling upon us to follow; We must bear his beauty now, Shining forth from breast and brow, We must show his care and kindness In the offering of our powers, And must be his human flowers Scattered through the paths of blindness, With the fragrance of his breath; We must wear his impress bright, Fresh and loyal even in death, Yielding all to all his giving Who alone can paint us right, In the glory of his living. — F. W. Orde Ward.