The weary ones had rest, the sad had joy that day
And wondered “How?”
A plowman singing at his work, had prayed,
“Lord, help them now.”
Away in foreign lands they wondered “How?”
Their feeble words had power:
At home the Christians, “two or three,” had met
To pray an hour!
Yes, we are always wondering, wondering “How?”
Because we do not see
Someone unknown perhaps, and far away,
On bended knee.
A hidden one apart, but near to God,
Was claiming Victory,—
As they went forth to battle in His name,
“Lord, be Thou nigh!”
The hands were steady till the setting sun—
No need to “wonder” more,
How courage, faith and hope were all supplied
From Heaven’s store.
For this thy praying host who wait on Thee
According to Thy Word,
Who plead by day and night within Thy courts,
We thank Thee, Lord!
A gentleman gave me this poem at a Hillcrest Baptist Church (Dallas) missions conference. He was ninety years old and had spent his life translating the Bible in South America. It says well what we mean by being “lifted.”