Whom the Lord Loveth He Chasteneth

 •  1 min. read
My God! How good are all Thy ways!
How well Thou knowest how to bring
Each feeble-tried one, near to Thee;
Yes! Thou dost draw with cords of love!
My God! How good from first to last,
The lesson Thou dost gently teach;
It must be learned, however hard;
But learned with Thee! My God, how good!
What patience with Thy wayward child!
No harshness, but a Father’s love,
‘Tis this recalls my wand’ring heart!
‘Tis this that bows and breaks my will!
How slow to learn- to learn myself,
To say “I’m nothing, Christ is all,”
To take no place, but at His feet-
There sit and wait, and waiting, learn.
To sit and gaze, Oh! What a place!
And softly whisper, “I am His,”
“His to the end, and He is mine.”
This meets all need! My Father God!
Now for a season laid aside,
Teach my Thy “wherefore” in it all;
That I in quiet rest may lie,
Till Thou seest good to strengthen me.
With such a Father, such a God,
Well may I bear what Thou does give.
Good to lie still, and hear Thy voice,
None other, than the voice of love.
Then speak, my Father, tell Thy child
More of Thyself, more of Thy will;
That self in me may hidden be,
And Christ shine out in brighter light.
“Christ formed” in me, ‘tis this I ask-
Christ first, Christ last. My Father grant
Me to be naught- He only seen, -
My soul thus bless’d, I kiss the rod!