Why do I ever doubt Thee, Lord,
When seemingly by error pressed?
For each and every time I see
Thy bounteous love made manifest.

Why do I fret and struggle, Lord,
When evil seems to prison me?
For if I quiet wait, I hear
The still, small voice that sets me free.

Why do I turn and wander, Lord,
My own path seeking to define,
When well I know the way is plain
If I but follow Thy design?

Why, Lord, oh! why, do I delay,
Seeking in earth my joy to find?
For well I know that lasting joy
Is in the boundless realm of Mind.

Yea, Lord! I'll learn to trust Thee more,
Turn from the mists of mortal sense
And gazing steadfast into Truth
Rejoice in Love's omnipotence.

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Signs of the Times
March 14, 1942

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