There is such a need for patience
In the army of the Lord;
When to sit, and pray, and listen,
When to stand and wield his sword.
All around a world is hungry
For the seed we have to sow,
And our hearts are fixed on serving,
Once the Lord will let us go.
But some common task compels us
To a tiny post or trade,
Where the eager harvest-worker
Seems quite useless and waylaid.
Where the daily round of testing
In a market-place of sin,
With its callous cuts and curses,
Often wears our patience thin.
Was it not the same for Jesus,
Though he felt an early call,
To be toiling in the sawdust
Years, with rule and plane and awl?
To be bearing with the wicked
In their lust to get ahead;
To be praying for their cleansing,
But to see their filth instead.
Yet the patience which he practiced
Had her perfect work to do,
In the shaping of a servant
Who would see God’s purpose through.
Comes a day, oh faithful warrior,
When the chiseling is done;
When the perfect path is opened
In your mission for God’s Son.
And you may be quite astonished,
In reviewing by-gone days,
At the hearts and lives affected
By your patient Christ-like ways.
