“LEAD ME TO THE ROCK THAT IS HIGHER THAN I!”
Something to lean on
That’s higher than I;
My props are all failing;
They weaken and die.
Just when I am feeblest,
And sorest my need,
Does each one prove worthless—
A frail, broken reed. Something to cling to
When over my soul
Dark tempests may gather
And billows may roll;
When I sink in deep waters
With no helper nigh,
And lose sight of the Rock
That is higher than I. Something to comfort
When friends are all gone,
In the hours I lie mourning
Alone, all alone;
When friends all turn from me
Or roam far away,
And not one I have loved
Is my shield and my stay. O Thou who hast promised
Thine angels, to cheer
All those who have striven
To walk in thy fear,
Let me feel their wings fanning
My tired, aching brow,
For wakeful and dreary
Are the nights to me now. And when overwhelmed
In a dark, cloudy day,
May thine hosts be around me,
Lest blindly I stray;
Unseen, yet so near me,
That evil shall fly,
While they lead to the Rock
That is higher than I. —Rocky Mountain Presbyterian.