Service by A King's Messenger

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Nov 18, 1909

Service

By A King's Messenger

I was longing to serve my Master, And lo! I was laid aside From the party of busy workers Who toiled in the fields so wide. They were few. Yes, few in numbers, And I could not understand Why I should be kept inactive,— 'Twas so different from what I had planned.

I was longing to serve my Master, I knew that the work was great; To me it was easy to labor, But O! it was hard to wait,— To lie quite still and be silent, While the song was borne to my ear Of the reapers with whom I had mingled In the work to my heart so dear.

I was longing to serve my Master. Ah! this was my one fond thought; For this I was ever pleading When his footstool in prayer I sought. And the seasons of sweet communing Were few and far apart, Not of him so much as his service Were the thoughts that filled my heart.

I was longing to serve my Master. He led to a desert place, And there, as we stopped and rested, His eyes looked down in my face. So full of tender reproaching, They filled me with sad surprise. Did he think I had grudged my service, And counted it sacrifice?

“O Master, I long to serve thee; The time is so short at best. Let me back to the fields,” I pleaded, “I care not to stay and rest.” I knelt at his feet imploring, I gazed in his face above. *“My child,” he said gently, “your service Is nothing without your love.”*

I was longing to serve my Master, I thought that his greatest care Was to keep all his workers busy In reaping the sheaves so fair. But there in the lonely desert, Afar from the busy scene, It dawned on me slowly and sadly, Where the awful mistake had been.

My mind was so full of service, I had drifted from him apart, And he longed for the old confiding, The union of heart with heart. I sought and received forgiveness, While my eyes with tears were dim, And now, though the work is still precious, The first place is kept for him.

—A King's Messenger.