Undimmed Belief in God

FAITH

I will not doubt, though all my ships at sea
    Come drifting home with broken masts and sails;
I shall believe the Hand which never fails
    From seeming evil worketh good for me;
And though I weep because those sails are battered,
    Still will I cry, while my best hopes lie shattered,
                                 I trust in thee.

I will not doubt, though all my prayers return
    Unanswered from the still, white Realm above;
I shall believe it is an all-wise Love
    Which has refused those things for which I yearn;
And though at times I cannot keep from grieving,
    Yet the pure ardour of my fixed believing
                                  Undimmed shall burn.

I will not doubt, though sorrows fall like rain,
    And troubles swarm like bees about a hive;
I shall believe the heights for which I strive
    Are only reached by anguish and by pain;
And though I groan and tremble with my crosses,
    I yet shall see, through my severest losses,
                                 The greater gain.

I will not doubt; well anchored in the faith,
    Like some staunch ship, my soul braves every gale,
So strong its courage that it will not fail
    To breast the mighty unknown sea of Death.
Oh, may I cry when body parts with spirit,
    I do not doubt, so listening worlds may hear it,
                       With my last breath.

ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.

 (Copyright, 1905, by William R. Hearst, for The Evening Bulletin)

It seems this is a season of much grief. The prayer requests I receive are full of heartbreaking situations—a young father whose brain has been gravely injured, my sister who has been diagnosed with throat cancer, my friend’s sister with a feeding tube and early onset dementia, a young woman who has needed a heart transplant, and so many more. Yet this poem does not focus on those situations.

With strength of faith, the poet puts concerns, pain, and sorrow in their proper place.  Ella Wheeler Wilcox is my example today for believing in the “Hand that never fails.” She allows that we will cry, but even though all our “best hopes lie shattered, (we) will trust” in our Lord and Savior.

My prayer for my life and yours today is that we will be like Ms. Wilcox and can say:

“And though at times I cannot keep from grieving,
    Yet the pure ardour of my fixed believing
                                  Undimmed shall burn.”

Our Father loves ardor. He loves fervency in prayer.

Do you have a situation in your life that prompts you to pray with the “pure ardour” cited in this poem? If so, go to God and tell Him you trust Him no matter what the world says. Fix your believing on Him and let it burn undimmed. And if you are so blessed not to have any prayer requests right now that require such fervency in prayer, I ask you to pray for mine.

Poem is from The Evening Bulletin [Philadelphia] 28 July 1905: 7. Courtesy of John M. Freiermuth. From http://www.ellawheelerwilcox.org/poems/pfaith2.htm