Not knowing what the way may be,
Onward I go, my hand in Thine,
Believing I am safe with Thee,
In treading paths I cannot see:-
To trust is mine.
Not knowing what may be my lot
In desert ways I cannot trace,
I turn my face toward my Friend,
Who e'er will help me to the end
With grace on grace.
Although at times it seemeth small,
'Tis mine to do the best I can;
A Father's care is watching eye,
To smooth the rough and rugged way
Through life's short span.
Oh tell me not I may but fail!
No deed for Him however small,
May froth His loving eye be hid:
Oh may I do as He may bid,
Who noteth all.
When shades of sorrow gather, round
Oh, may this knowledge cheer my soul:
He passed through more than this for me !
This blessed comfort still I see,
Though billows roll.
Oh! keep my soul from care and doubt,
Though Satan try my trust to spoil!
May I endure unto the end
All pain or trouble God may send —
Nor hate my toil.
One thing I know: beyond this life
There waits a home of beauty bright,
A home which Christ with us shall share,
Where we with Him in garments fair
Shall walk in white.
Messages of God’s Love 8/11/1901