WHEN I PRAY

My Father, when I pray, how brief and swift
The flight of heart to reach infinity!
I need but shut away the mind's small view
To find Thee anywhere I am.
Then, in this sweet awareness of Thy love,
The door made fast against the outer tide,
I rest, secure in everlasting arms.
Here, I renew my joy, refresh my faith.
Here, with Thy allness round about,
I see the shallow human scene grow dim—
The foolish, fleeting, soon-forgotten things
For which we spend ourselves, and reap the wind.

No searching but is blessed: no good withheld.
No fears I bring, are taken back again.
And never can my asking be too much,
Or length of stay stretch out too long for Thee.
As often as I come, Thy welcome waits!
And though my feet must press along
The busy, crowded thoroughfares,
Or treacherous steeps, or midnight roads,
Or even where it seems no God could be,
I find Thee there, my Father—when I pray.

Jean Elsie Sanders

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Editorial
"WHERE FETTERS FALL"
December 26, 1953
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