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Distrust

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Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Feb 10, 1914

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 41, No. 5.

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Distrust

By C. P. BOLLMAN

DISTRUST — ah, what a wicked thing it is! For why should I, a creature of the dust, Not full confide in the eternal God? Yea, trust to Him my transient life I must. There's no escaping from His wondrous ken. If to the heavens I would go, He's there; If to the grave, e'en there I'm made to fear. Then why not trust Him now and everywhere? Why not confide in Him who is my life? For in Him I must one day sure abide, If, when the desolating storm shall break, A place I'd find wherein secure to hide. Then why not trust and love Him now, And find in Him a faithful friend most dear — A friend who loves and succors to the end — And thus rise high above this earth-born fear, A fear that always has a downward trend? Ah, this His grace enables me to do; For perfect love casts out all haunting fear, And makes us one with Him who's ever true. O, now I rise the prefix “dis” above, And own no sentiment or word but “trust,” While viewing Him who is my King from choice, And not because acknowledge Him I must. C. P. BOLLMAN.