A dim aurora rises in my east,
Beyond the line of jagged questions hoar,
As if the head of our intombed High Priest,
Began to glow behind the unopened door:
Sure the gold wings will soon rise from gray!
They rise not. Up I rise, press on the more,
To meet the slow coming of the Master’s day.
-George MacDonald
There's a wideness in God's mercy
I cannot find in my own
And He keeps His fire burning
To melt this heart of stone
Keeps me aching with a yearning
Keeps me glad to have been caught
In the reckless raging fury
That they call the love of God.
Joy is the serious business of heaven.
He is a sane man who can have tragedy in his heart and comedy in his head.
1 Comment
January 11, 2008 at 10:12 pm
Hmmm…..he certainly says a lot with very few words. He paints a beautiful picture. Thankyou for sharing.
Sue