Rivendell, WIS

O to grace how great a debtor Daily I'm constrained to be! Let Thy goodness, like a fetter, Bind my wandering heart to Thee.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

A New Focus: Amy Carmichael's poetry

God of the Stars

I am the God of the stars.
They do not lose their way;
Not one do I mislay.
Their times are in My Hand;
They move at My command.

I am the God of the stars,
Today, as yesterday,
The God of thee and thine,
Less thine they are than Mine;
And shall Mine go astray?

I am the God of the stars.
Life up thine eyes and see
As far as mortal may
Into Eternity;
And stay thy heart on Me.

The second stanza is a great reminder to me, especially when my heart is burdened with worry about people whom I love. Did you sort out all the pronouns in that stanza (thee, thine, Mine...)? If not, I encourage you to read it again, keeping in mind that "thine" means something that belongs to you, as in "your travel mug" or "your loved ones."

So Near

Below, above, around thee everywhere--
So is My love, like clearness of blue air.

To find the air so high and yet so low,
Tell Me, belovéd, hast thou far to go?
So high, so low--but I had thought Thee far,
Remote, aloof, like glory of a star.

And is the way of love so near to me?
Then by that way I come; I come to Thee.

Watch carefully who is speaking in Carmichael's poems. The capitals on the pronouns are a clue... Did you catch that two different persons speak in this poem?

Empty, We Come

O Love of loves, we have no good to bring Thee,
No single good of all our hands have wrought.
No worthy music have we found to sing Thee,
No jeweled word, no quick up-soaring thought.

And yet we come; and when our faith would falter
Show us, O Lord, the quiet place of prayer,
The golden censer and the golden altar,
And the great angel waiting for us there.

Hope Through Me

Hope through me, God of Hope,
Or never can I know
Deep wells and living streams of hope,
And pools of overflow.

Flood me with hope today
For souls perverse, undone,
For sinful souls that turn away,
Blind sunflowers, from their Sun.

O blesséd Hope of God,
Flow through me patiently,
Until I hope for everyone
As Thou hast hoped for me.

Spirit, Work in Me

Spirit Divine, work in me holiness,
Purity, pity for the world's distress.
But O let hope, Thy quenchless hope, prevail,
Lest I should faint and fail.

Then as the incense from the golden bowl
Rose up to Thee, so from my quiet soul
Let prayer arise--a little, quiet cloud--
To Thee, my listening God.

These last two poems filled me with hope during some dark days this past month. I desperately needed hope as I poured out my heart to God. And He gave me the hope I needed, the faith to believe that He heard and would answer with good gifts, as a Father gives to His child. Thank You, dear Father in heaven.


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