Lord, here I hold within my trembling hand,
This will of mine—a thing which seemeth small;
And only Thou, O Christ, canst understand How,
when I yield Thee this, I yield mine all.
It hath been wet with tears, and stained with sighs,
Clenched in my grasp till beauty hath it none;
Now, from Thy footstool where it prostrate lies
The prayer ascendeth, Let Thy will be done.
Just a thought as we pray today... and as we gather this evening for midweek prayer meeting.
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