Writ 21/9/2015. A realisation, in time of soberness and helplessness. A prayer. A poem.
God, when I contemplate
of the things and voices from my heart
and bring all of them, kneeling before Thee;
too many and numerous they are
that my heart can never bear.
Who am I, Lord, in Your mind,
that You put in me compassion and love
for the things You care about?
Father, I am only a little child
whose heart not lifted up,
whose eyes are not raised too highh.
With my predecessors from old, I
plea for my requests and sanctification
to come before You, God Most High.
For we do not occupy ourselves
with things too great and marvellous.
Now, I have calmed and quieted
my restless and wandering soul within.
In front of Your righteous throne, I am
like a weaned child with his mother;
like a weaned child is my soul in me.
Let Thy will be done above
everything else in all creation.
Soli Deo Gloria, amen.
” O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time forth and forevermore.”