Poem September 16, 1933 Issue

Clean through the Word

KATHRINE H. WILLIAMS

It seemed that I had earned His healing touch,
Some token of His ever mindful care,
After long months of quiet pondering,
Close study of the word and daily prayer.
In Naaman's attitude was glimpsed my own:
He surely will come out to me, I said;
And though, like Naaman, I had journeyed far,
Beyond the door I stood, uncomforted.

But deeper, ever deeper, in my heart
Sounded the kindly words of those dim years:
If he had bid thee do some great thing. I
Beheld one day the task through unshed tears:
A heart to cleanse of the old pride that urged:
Rivers of Damascus are the best.
Yes, swift as sunbeams dissipate a cloud,
My eyes were purged to see the Lord's behest.

Go wash, be clean. It is the same command,
The one thing needful here and now, as then;
And lo, the very flesh of us shall change,
Like the flesh of a little child, shall come again.

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