Thursday, October 1

And Yet, and always just yet. . .


Life is hard right now. Very scary. Very stressful. The weight of an unforeseen, but very real load weighs down upon us. And yet, just yet, there is hope.

Blest be the God of love,
Who gave me eyes, and light, and power this day,
Both to be busy, and to play.
But much more blest be God above,
Who gave me sight alone,
Which to himself he did deny:
For when he sees my ways, I die:
But I have got his son, and he hath none.

What have I brought thee home
For this thy love? have I discharg'd the debt,
Which this day's favour did beget?
I ran; but all I brought, was foam.
Thy diet, care, and cost
Do end in bubbles, balls of wind;
Of wind to thee whom I have crost,
But balls of wild-fire to my troubled mind.

Yet still thou goest on,
And now with darkness closest weary eyes,
Saying to man, It doth suffice:
Henceforth repose; your work is done.
Thus in thy Ebony box
Thou dost enclose us, till the day
Put our amendment in our way,
And give new wheels to our disorder'd clocks.

I muse, which shows more love,
The day or night: that is the gale, this th' harbour;
That is the walk, and this the arbour;
Or that the garden, this the grove.
My God, thou art all love.
Not one poor minute 'scapes thy breast,
But brings a favour from above;
And in this love, more than in bed, I rest.

Evensong by George Herbert

4 comments:

Bonnie said...

Praying for you two.

Great poem . You know the ones
pastors write and wrote have
conviction to them.

podso said...

What would life be without hope?

I love what George Herbert writes.

Linda said...

One of my favorite. It describes our turmoil of life and the sweetness of His rest so beautifully.

Always praying for you - Love, Mom/Linda

rhesadechany said...

Wow, i was amazed by the picture.
I have been seeing it in my dreams long ago. I wonder where did you took that photo.