About following . . .
"He Leadeth Me"
By Odealia White
In pastures green? Not always.
Sometimes He, who knoweth best,
In kindness leadeth me in weary ways,
Where heavy shadows lie.
Out of the sunshine, warm, soft, and bright,
Out of the sunshine, into darkest night.
I oft would faint with sorrow and affright.
Only but for this - I know He holds my hand.
So whether in green or desert land; I trust,
Although I may not understand.
And by still waters? No, not always so.
Oft times the heavy tempests round me blow,
And o'er my soul the waves and billows go.
But when the storms beat loudest,
And I cry aloud for help,
The Master standeth by,
And whispers to my soul,
"Lo, it is I."
Above the tempest wild I hear Him say,
"Beyond the darkness lies the perfect day."
"In every path of thine, I lead the way."
So whether on the hilltop high and fair I dwell,
Or in the sunshine valleys,
Or where the shadows lie;
What matters?
He is there and more than this;
Where'er the pathways lead,
He gives no helpless, broken reed,
But His own hand, sufficient for my need.
So where He leads me I can safely go,
And in the blest hereafter I shall know
Why, in His wisdom, He hath led me so.
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