Dear Friends in Christ -
I'm often caught up in a flurry of words - reading, writing. It's the music and poetry of the season that make me pause, that spark my soul, that take my breath away. Here's the simple poem that brought a fresh breeze through my study today.
Faithfully,
Janet+
That Holy Thing
by George MacDonald
They all were looking for a king
To slay their foes and lift them high;
Thou cam’st, a little baby thing
That made a woman cry.
O Son of Man, to right my lot
Naught but Thy presence can avail;
Yet on the road Thy wheels are not,
Nor on the sea Thy sail!
My how or when Thou wilt not heed,
But come down Thine own secret stair,
That Thou may’st answer all my need-
Yea, every bygone prayer.
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