The Patmos Life - by Eliza H. Morton

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Oct 7, 1913

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 40, No. 39.

The Patmos Life -

By Eliza H. Morton

BY ELIZA H. MORTON

OUR God makes no mistakes, tho strange to us May seem the workings of His will. Upon The isle called Patmos, John, an exile, wept, And prayed and talked with Him who holds the sea Within His hands. Aye, strange it seemed to take One from a work that was to be world-wide, And mighty in its power — yea, one that loved The work, the Master, and the world. To him His hopes seemed blasted, and his plans as naught; And yet in Patmos came a service grand, Most wonderful — a wider service than The one beloved had ever dreamed. His heart And life were raptured by the scenes that love Revealed — the glorious visions of our God; And down to us have come those visions bright, The trumpet voices and the glimpses of a home Where hosts of angels dwell.

The Spirit waits To isolate our lives, to give us views More wide, to take us, as it were, afar To Patmos in its loveliness; for earth And earthly cares crowd out the Spirit's power, Prevent our eyes from seeing things unseen. But John had stood close by the cross of Christ, His head had touched the bosom of his Lord. Because of this, the visions on the isle Were possible; and so if we would know The blessedness and fulness of that joy, And see beyond the portals of this life, We too must bow before the cross, we too Must insulated be by His own power, And live the Patmos life. His Spirit then Through us will flow out to a weary world.

Portland, Maine.

“He leadeth me beside the still waters.”