It’s so easy to look past my neigh bor Who has needs only God can supply. God forgive me if I, like the Levite, Have been passing some suff’ring one by. GETHSEMANE All those who journey, soon or late, Must pass within the garden gate; Must kneel alone in darkness there And battle with some fierce despair. God pity those who cannot say, "Not mine but Thine" who only pray, “Let this cup pass” and cannot see The purpose in Gethsemane. — Ella Wheeler Wilcox MY CONFESSION I’m not the saint folks think I am. I might as well confess; There’s many times I’m so ashamed Of my unworthiness: I wish I were a perfect man, And had no faults or sin; And be like other saints I hear Who all the vict'ries win: And yet I wonder if it’s true, When God looks from above, If he can find one saint on earth Without one sin . . . to love. Or, are most people just like me, And need a lot of grace; And need forgiveness every time, When they would seek His face? I think if we were honest folks, We might as well confess There are many times we're all ashamed Of our unworthiness; And when we stand before His face, I’m sure we all will say: "We’re not the saints folks think we are . . . Forgive us, Lord, we pray.” —Walter Huntley
THE THORN I stood, a mendicant of God Before His royal throne, And begged Him for one priceless gift For which to call my own. I took the gift from out His hand, But as I would depart I cried, "But, Lord, this is a thorn, And it has pierced my heart." “This is a strange and hurtful gift Which Thou hast given me." He said, “Nay, child, I give good gifts! I gave My best to thee.” I took it home, and though at first The cruel thorn hurt sore, As long years passed I grew at least To love it more and more. I learned He never gives a thorn Without this added grace; He takes the thorn to pin aside The veil which hides His face! — Martha Snell Nicholson And I’ll do what you want me to do." But how could I know as I knelt there, That He’d ask me to stay here with you? I thought surely He’d call me to Asia, Or to Africa’s far-away shore. I would gladly have sailed o’er the ocean. But He whispered, “I need you next door.” It's the far-away task that seems brightest And the grass seems more green o’er the way; But how can He use me afar off, If I fail those I meet every day? MY IMPORTANT PLACE I said, “Yes, Lord, I'll go where you call me
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