Service

MAY SMITH DEAN

A SILENT voice bids me be strong,
With strength which cometh only from the Lord!

Though grief my eyes may fill, my heart may rend,
I still can trust and say, 'T is not the end.
God reacheth down His hand; and I look up,
And place my hand, in confidence, in His.
Then, separate from mortal strife, can stand On vantage ground and see the promised land.

Though daily deeds of service may seem small,
They still reflect true love. As blades of grass
Brothers and sisters are to lofty trees,
So trivial tasks, done lovingly, have life;
For Love sustains the whole, with perfect ease
Apportioning to each its rightful place.
Size, as we see it, melts before His eyes—
In love the measure lies. God's man is great;
For did not one, the meekest man on earth,
Look up, and claim his unity with God?
I and my Father, one, he said; and then
To us his words, Go thou, and likewise do;
And, Be thou perfect. So in Truth, must I
This oneness recognize, and shut the door
Of consciousness against unworthy doubts.
Unto the Father, speaking secretly,
I thanks upyield for vision granted me
Of man as spiritual, not physique,
But God's own image. Then, rejoicing,say:
Now am I strong, for strength is of the Lord.

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