Composed by a brother converted by a stroke which maimed him for life.
A shattered wreck am I,
Enjoying now a chair;
And full of life I sit and sing
To Him who placed me there.
Content a shattered wreck to be
Because, my God, it pleaseth Thee.
Naught have I else to do,
But sing the whole day long;
And He whom most I love to please
Doth listen to my song.
He caught and clipped my once strong wings,
And now He stoops to hear me sing.
And it is good to soar
These palsied limbs above,
To Him whose purpose I adore;
Whose every act is love:
And in His mighty will to find,
Such sweet repose for heart and mind.
How sweet to trace the path He trod,
Learning of Him to walk with God.
His cross behind, His house before,
Himself today and evermore.
C. E. Eversfield