He Leadeth Me

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Tacoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jul 15, 1915

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 sunshine, into darkest night; I oft would 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 storm beats loudest, and I cry Aloud for help, the Master standeth by, And whispers 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 on the hilltops high and fair I dwell, or in the sunless valleys where The shadows lie, what matter? He is there.

And more than this: where’er the pathways lead, He gives to me no helpless, broken reed; But his own hand, sufficient for my need.

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

— Selected.