The Lord hath been mindful of us: He will bless us.—PS. cxv. 12.
My Father! what am I, that all
Thy mercies sweet like sunlight fall
So constant o’er my way?
That Thy great love should shelter me,
And guide my steps so tenderly
Through every changing day?
What a strength and spring of life, what hope and trust, what glad, unresting energy, is in this one thought,—to serve Him who is “my Lord,” ever near me, ever looking on; seeing my intentions before He beholds my failures; knowing my desires before He sees my faults; cheering me to endeavor greater things, and yet accepting the least; inviting my poor service, and yet, above all, content with my poorer love. Let us try to realize this, whatsoever, wheresoever we be. The humblest and the simplest, the weakest and the most encumbered, may love Him not less than the busiest and strongest, the most gifted and laborious. If our heart be clear before Him; if He be to us our chief and sovereign choice, dear above all, and beyond all desired; then all else matters little. That which concerneth us He will perfect in stillness and in power.