I want so many, many things,
My wishes on my prayers take wings,
And heavenward fly to sue for grace
Before the loving Father's face.
But He, well knowing all my need,
Kindly rebukes my foolish greed,
And, granting not the gift I ask,
Sets me instead to do some task--
Some lowly task--for love of him,
So lowly, and in light so dim,
My sorrowing soul must cease to sing,
And only sigh, "'Tis for the King."
And scarcely can my faith repeat
Her sad petition at his feet:
"These daily tasks Thou giv'st to me,
Help, Lord, to do as unto thee!"
Yet while his bidding thus I do--
I know not how, or why, 'tis true--
My thoughts to sweet contentment glide,
And I forget the wish denied.
And so my prayers he hears and heeds,
Mindful of all my daily needs;
Gracious, most gracious, too, in this--
Denying, when I ask amiss.
--Luella Clark.