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| Lilias Trotter (1853-1928), a sketch in her journal |
Lord, I thank Thee
that Thy love constraineth me.
I thank Thee
that, in the great labyrinth of life,
Thou waitest not for my consent to lead me.
I thank Thee
that Thou leadest me by a way which I know not,
by a way which is above the level of my poor understanding.
I thank Thee
that Thou art not repelled by my bitterness,
that Thou art not turned aside by the heat of my spirit.
There is no force in this universe
so glorious as the force of Thy love;
it compels me to come in.
O divine servitude,
O slavery that makes me free,
O love that imprisons me only to set my feet in a larger room,
enclose me more and more within Thy folds.
Protect me from the impetuous desires of my nature
—desires as short-lived as they are impetuous.
Ask me not where I would like to go;
tell me where to go;
lead me in Thine own way;
hold me in Thine own light—Amen.
George Matheson (1842-1906)
