Poem August 7, 1948 Issue

NOT SERVANT, BUT SON

Helen E. Wells

We seek You, Love,
As ever we must seek to know our source.
But though we've learned to know the way,
And though we choose it day by day,
We fail sometimes to find Your healing force.

We know You are
In every place and out of bondage bring release,
And that the truth will ever guide
Us from our human fear and pride
Into the consciousness of all-inclusive peace.

And yet we question You
And say: Why is it, Love, we seem to lose the way?
We read the books and strive to sow
The seeds of Truth that we may know
The harvest that is promised if we work and watch and pray.

Then listening, Love,
We hear Your voice proclaim in words divine:
Thou art not a servant, laboring for hire,
Looking for reward as part of thy desire.
Thou art, instead, My son beloved, and all I have is thine!

And then we understand,
Though faintly still, perhaps: The way that Love has trod
Is found in hearts made pure and meek
And consecrated lives that seek
To know man's only status as the son and heir of God.

Helen E. Wells

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