Calm these tumultuous waters O my God!
And hush them into rest;
Or let each surging billow as it heaves,
But toss me to Thy breast.
I trust Thee, oh I trust Thee, but I’m weak,
And tears unbidden start,
As face to face with Thee, I find Thy will
Demands a broken heart.
Wounded and lacerated to its core,
With every fiber rent,
And all its energy of buoyant life,
Withered and well nigh spent.
And this is love! I own it, O my God!
Yet sometimes marvel much,
That love should sweep away its own best gifts,
With such unsparing touch.
Sweep them away— and then expect the heart
Robbed of its choicest store,
To give to Thee its wealth of confidence,
And praise Thee more and more.
‘Twas a strange venture, Lord, for love to make,
But that Thou knowest well.
The vast resources of Thy mighty grace,
And Thine own power to heal.
Yes, Thou art able, and I lay me down
To trust and to endure;
To kiss the hand that either gives or takes,
Enriches or makes poor.
A pierced hand! I see the deep-set scar,
It bled on Calvary’s tree,
The Heart that deigns to ask for my poor love,
Was broken once for me.
All borne for me, and shall my coward heart
Refuse its best to Thee?
Lord Jesus, take me to Thy fellowship
Whate’er the cost may be.
Do all Thy will with me, my loving Lord,
And I am satisfied,
While nestling ‘neath the shadow of Thy wing
Thy weary child may hide.
And I shall see Thee, when the strife is o’er,
The latest victory won,
And praise Thee that amid earth’s changeful days,
Thy will, not mine, was done.
ANON.