THE PLACE OF SEPARATION.
By Priscilla J. Owens
“And he called the name of that place Bethel [House of God], and the name of that city was called Luz [Departure, or separation,] at the first.” Gen. 27:19. The pilgrim walked in grief and deprivation,
Along the desert lone,
And reached at last the place of separation,
There rested on a stone. But in his sleep a wondrous dream was given;
He saw the angel guard
Walking a ladder ’twixt the earth and Heaven,
Thus keeping watch and ward. A wondrous voice, the midnight silence breaking,
That filled his soul with dread;
And yet with hope, “I know now on awaking,
The house of God,” he said. “I knew not God was here, an exile driven
Across the waste, I trod;
Surely this place is as the gate of Heaven,
This is the house of God.” ’Tis often thus; the place of separation
By weary footsteps trod,
Becomes the place of earnest consecration,
The glorious house of God. There by some heavy coffin-lid uplifted
To hide some treasure dear,
The cloud of tears and sorrow oft is rifted
To show a Saviour near. The chastened soul its lonely vigils keeping
Beneath the midnight sky,
Feels the soft wings across the darkness sweeping,
God’s angels hovering nigh. The stroke of grief falls down, our spirits rending
From some bright idol’s weight;
We see God’s hosts, arising and descending,
And are not desolate. We hear God’s voice, the mournful silence breaking,
And turn from shattered dreams,
To newer life and nobler joy awaking,
To higher, holier themes. Here, where our hearts with parting tears are riven,
Low in this darkness round,
We said, “This place is as the gate of Heaven,
The house of God is found.” Thus in the night we journey, sad and solemn,
But in the light of morn
Pour fragrant oil on the memorial column
Of mercies newly born. Receive, O God, our humble consecration,
Here by this funeral sod;
We feel ’midst pain and death and separation,
Our home, our house, with God.