“BE STILL, AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD.”
By Lilla D. Avery
The night is dark and the way is drear,
And the storm is fierce and wild,
And I cry for help, but there's none to hear,
And my heart grows cold with a sickening fear—
O Father, save thy child.
I hear a voice 'bove the angry sea,
And thus the Father doth answer me:
“Fear not to pass 'neath the chast'ning rod,
Be still, my child, know that I am God.” But yet I cry, for my trembling soul
Is filled with an anxious dread.
I sink and quake as the billows roll
Between my bark and the distant goal.
I dare not raise my head.
My Father, hast thou left me alone?
And wilt thou not pity now thine own?
The answer comes, “It's thy Father's will;
I am thy God, trembling soul, be still!” But, Father, see! there is danger nigh,
For the terrible foe is here.
My strength is gone, and I fain would fly;
My brain grows wild, I shall fall and die;
I faint with sudden fear.
Canst thou not lead from this direful place,
And let me see once again thy face?
Again the voice so tender and mild
Rebukes my fears,—“Be faithful, my child!” And still I cry; for the Father's hand
Has stricken my flowerets fair.
I am all alone in a cheerless land;
There is left not one of the blossoms grand
I nursed with tenderest care.
This way, my Lord, I can never tread;
My lone heart fears, and I shrink with dread.
“E'en such a path has thy Saviour trod;
Be still,” he cries, “and know I am God.” “Ah! yes, my child, he has died for thee;
And now wilt thou shrink in fear?
I'll give thee strength as thy day shall be,
And the beautiful city thine eyes shall see,
If thou art faithful here.”
Ah! well, my Father, I'll bear the cross,
The joys of earth I'll account but dross,
I'll humbly bow, kiss the chast'ning rod,
And trust in thee, my Lord and my God. Locke, Ingham Co., Mich., Nov. 25, 1876.