I do not ask, dear Lord, to see
All things that lie ahead of me;
Nor do I ask to understand
All thine immortal mind has planned;
To know where I shall lay my head,
From whence shall come my daily bread;
But rather let me know Thy will,
And hear thy tender, "Peace be still."
I dare not ask that thou would'st keep
The waters back that round me creep.
And terrify my soul anew - -
Just hold my hand while I pass through.
I do not ask that thou shouldest quench
All round about, this fiery trench;
Though rising flames may cause alarm,
Thy Word has said they shall not harm
And if I ask Thee to dispel
These trials that my spirit quell,
Perhaps I'd miss a blessing rare
That I should have encountered there,
A lesson that I needed well,
A chance to lead some soul from hell,
A new expression of Thy grace,
A precious look into Thy face.
And so, to Thee, who made me whole,
I give the keeping of my soul.
Thy riches and Thy grace are free,
Perfect that which concerneth me!
Barbara Cornet Ryberg
