January 14
SADNESS, THE ANGEL
“Behold, there stood a man over against him with his sword
drawn in his hand.”—Josh. v. 13.
Sadness is just the angel on the way
That brings me tidings of the better land,
Though sworded he may stand;
I thank Thee for the cleansing of the clay;
For, were my pride not broken,
I had no heavenly token
To bid me hear a Father's call to pray.
I feel each pain is never idly sent;
It hath a meaning for the time and place,
And marks a special grace;
I thank Thee I am often bowed and bent;
And Thy so precious sorrow,
That bears no fruit to-morrow,
Shall yet be richest in the life most rent.
I know Thy disappointments leave their scars
But O they turn to jewels when my love
Looks just to Thee above;
I thank Thee for the helpful bolts and bars;
Sweet is the sunny meadow,
But with no saving shadow
I should not see a glint of guiding stars.
It may be now I tread Thy temple floor,
Unconscious here is the most holy ground
And in the very bound;
I thank Thee for the shutting of the door;
It shuts me from earth's pleasure
To Thee my heavenly Treasure,
And shuts me in with all Thy blessed Poor.
