Wednesday, September 22, 2004

 

"The Angel of Patience"

By John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892)

To weary hearts, to mourning homes,
God’s meekest Angel gently comes:
No power has he to banish pain,
Or give us back our lost again;
And yet in tenderest love our dear
And heavenly Father sends him here.

There’s quiet in that Angel’s glance,
There’s rest in his still countenance!
He mocks no grief with idle cheer,
Now wounds with words the mourner’s ear;
But ills and woes he may not cure
He kindly trains us to endure.

Angel of patience! Sent to calm
Our feverish vows with cooling palm;
To lay the storms of hope and fear,
And reconcile life’s smile and tear;
The throbs of wounded pride to still,
And make our own our Father’s will!

O thou who mournest on thy way,
With longings for the close of day;
He walks with thee, that Angel kind,
And gently whispers, “Be resigned:
Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell
The dear Lord ordereth all things well.”
#

Not what you get from TV preachers and others who make a mockery of the austerity of faith, and the awesomeness of God. But it’s the only kind of faith – resigned faith, in the face of situations seemingly out of control – that sustains.

Very Quaker. Very nineteenth-century. Very comforting, for those with ears to hear: “The dear Lord ordereth all things well.”
--ER


Comments:
ER, I loved this poem, it is very appropriate... and you are welcome, I enjoyed reading your blogs, you remind me of a good ole' boy redneck friend of my husband, who has a heart of gold and a perpetual dip. lol! susan2
 
Reading this brought to mind an image from the movie "City of Angels" with Nicholas Cage. These angels weren't of the big, fluffy-white-wing variety. This force dressed in long black coats. Silently, they stood watch, unseen, among humans, much like life guards. When extra encouragement was required, they stood firmly behind their charges, holding fast to their shoulders and infusing them with the inspiration to make the right choice, or the comfort to endure.
It's an image that clearly shows me what it is to hear the gentle whisper to be resigned:

“Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell
The dear Lord ordereth all things well.”
 
Susan2: That is high praise. :-) By the way, with the help of nicotine gum (still), I have been Copenhagen-free since July 6, 2003! I started when I was 11. Do the math: 28 years of dippin' and spittin'. Dr. Erudite Redhead and I quit at the same time. She smoked, I mean. Didn't dip. Not that I know of. :-)

Trixie: I LOVE that movie. I don't remember whether I got the idea from C.S. Lewis or where, but a long time ago I realized that guardian angels couldn't be bare-butted seraphim and cherubs and cupids and the like -- not to keep this ol redneck in line. I figgered the Lord's Own Posse probably all looked like Chuck Norris or Arnold Swaren .. Swarzen .. Schwart -- the governor of California, or John Wayne, Clint Eastwood and such. The "City of Angels" depicts a right fine urban version of what I think my Redneck Angelic Guard looks like. :-) ... Back to the books. I am partyin' like it's 1559 this morning. Everybody pray for me for clarity and the ability to recall mind-numbing cartographical detail from noon today to about 12:30 p.m., as well as the ability to let go after then. I never want to lay eyes on a map again -- which will be a great discomfort to Dr. ER next time we hit the road to someplace we've never been before! :-)
 
I tell you what, every time we wander into a God thing on here, and I file a comment, it cracks me up to see: "Your comment has been saved." :-) Makes me want to keep a little cup of water handy for baptizin' purposes. :-) Need to figure out how to immerse this here blog in some digital baptizin' water. Hoot! Sprinklin' is for Methodists and other sissies, and is just a good start on a proper dunkin'. Heck, they shoulda held me down longer, thrown in some Tide and agitated me some back in '72! :-) (Opinions on the sacrament of baptizin' made on this here blog should not be interpreted to reflect intolerance on the part of the blogger. Not too much, anyway. Ha.)
 
Well if it helps you any, I'm a well-dunked Methodist. We will do the sacrament just about any way it can be done, from dunking and scrubbing in the river or a tank to sprinkling to pouring. I think we're good as long as we get our hair wet....
(and no, I'm not poking fun at the sacrament neither. 'Member I opted for the full soaking myself, on a cold evening in October 1972.)

I hope by now you've passed the doggone test. I am betting YOUR guardian angel has a set of spurs somewhere, if not a tiny bottle of holy whiskey.
 
Holy whiskey?! No wonder I have so many preachers in my family. They been holdin' out on me!
 
I love that poem--thanks for posting it! Consider you and your test prayed for. :)

That line "With longings for the close of day" is exactly how I've felt the last few days--just couldn't wait for the day to be over. There is mourning for all types of things, and I was mourning for the progress DS made in being more accountable for his homework before he went on break. (We have year-round school with three month-long breaks during the year.) He's a straight-A honor student, but his work habits are lacking. I'd love to have those habits resolved before he starts high school next year, and this starting over (and over and over and over) after breaks is about to break me! lol

I'm going to have to think, today, of what I might think my guardian angel looks like. I can live with a Nicholas Cage look-alike. (Grin)

As for my governor's name, it's S-c-h-w-a-r-z-e-n-e-g-g-e-r. Spelled just like it sounds. ;)
 
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