This Thing Is from Me

[MIRIAM JACOB]

This Thing Is from Me


This thing is from Me, came His whisper of love
That today you do not understand,
When farther along, you shall look back and see,
That it came from thy dear Master’s hand.
This thing, that has troubled and caused thee such pain,
Loss of what you held precious and dear,
When the fire had refined thee, the dross is all gone,
Then the reason, My child, will be clear.


This thing is from Me, the long, lonely trail,
Where you wonder just why it should be,
Forgetting the vision He gave thee that day,
When He whispered, My child, follow Me --
Alone, on a road that was rugged and steep,
No form, but thy Lord’s could you see;
This, then, is the answer to the question you ask,
This thing, My dear child, is from Me.


So, think it not strange, turn not thou aside,
Nor shrink from the heat of the flame,
For gold must be melted and faith must be tried
Till the cross with its glory and shame,
The hope of His coming, the power of His Name,
Thy most precious possessions shall be.
When shadows are darkest, remember His Word,
This thing, My dear child, is from Me.


The thorns in the path, the friends who have failed,
The cross that seems heavy to bear,
The crowd and the shouting that left you unstirred,
And wondering just why you were there --
How precious His presence, when low at His feet,
In secret where no one can see,
Once again to remember His whisper of love;
This thing, My dear child, is from Me.



- Author Unknown