HIDDEN by E. C. Wrenford

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Oct 30, 1879

HIDDEN

By E. C. Wrenford

“Thy hidden ones.” Ps. 83:3.

Oh! praise ye the Lord for a truth so resplendent, A pearl of great price from the deep of his word, Where treasures unbounded, of love all transcendent, Lie strewn for his saints in a largess unheard! Oh! the fountain of joy he, in love’s regal fashion, As life-giving water, unseals from above— What tender affection, what yearning compassion, So richly unveiling his fullness of love.

That God is our Father! Oh, heart-thrilling story! His “children” shall rest ’neath the shade of his wing; Farewell, then, to sadness; awake thou my glory,— With love’s mellow chanting his temple shall ring! For ’mid the rude storms of this life’s tribulation, When Satan’s wild legions spring forth to destroy, He spreads his “pavilion,” becomes my “salvation,” And hideth me safe in unspeakable joy.

Ah! was it not thus, when the foe, deeply angered, O’er Mizraim’s plains flew on Israel’s track? The “cloud of his presence,” by day as a vanguard, At night was a warden of fire at their back! And the ages proclaim, with an eloquent power: “O trust in the Lord, ever trust him, ye saints! He, the ‘Refuge’ and ‘Fortress,’ the ‘Rock’ and ‘High Tower,’ The ‘Strength of your heart,’ is not weary nor faints!”

“His potent ‘right hand’ all his chosen investing, Still casteth a ‘shadow,’ his love’s ‘secret place’! E’en now, as with Daniel, swift peril arresting, That shadow shall tell of the might of his grace! O wanderer, try it; thy hope is well-founded; The Lord shall thy Guide and thy Champion be; His wisdom so lofty, his love so unbounded, The power of his might,—all are purchased for thee.”

The way to the refuge? Oh, is it not Jesus, The “Man for a hiding-place” clearly foretold; Who suffered from thralldom to sin to release us, The “Rock” that was riven the lost to enfold? The glory of Sinai and Horeb’s still voices Tell of splendid revealings, of whisperings heard By him who in Jesus’ cleft side now rejoices— ’Tis written in letters of light, in the word!

O pavilion of God, on thy shelter relying, When the “blast of the terrible” swelleth amain, Safe housed in thy love, my soul is defying The heat of the furnace—life’s uttermost pain! Oh, haste to that “Covert,” that loved “Rock of Ages,” And fully believe in his presence and power! A “rampart of fire,” all our fear he assuages, Most vivid in splendor in life’s waning hour!

And thus—Hallelujah!—my Father in Heaven By heart-speaking types my protection assures: Not a place, not an hour, from life’s morn to its even, But his fond, loving-kindness completely secures My freedom from danger, my bliss never-fading, My closer communion, my still deeper rest! Oh, mighty compassion! Oh, sweet overshading! Can even the “angels elect” be more blest?

Then aglow with thy love, O thou sovereign Defender, I pass to the cloud halo-bright with thy rays! Enshrined in thy “presence,” my life thou shalt render Luxuriant with blessing, perfumed with thy praise! I long to be near thee, I know thou wilt guide me; In view of this joy my heart merrily sings; Till I see thee in glory, Oh, lovingly guide me, Drawn close to thy heart ’neath the shade of thy wings.

—E. C. Wrenford, in Christian Woman.