Oh, the sting of my reluctance,
Ever doubting Jesus’ words!
Had I not been in that dry place
Where he fed the hungry hordes?
Had I not been there at Bethany
As Lazarus left the tomb?
Had I not been in the Lord’s High Feast
Within that Upper Room?
Oh, the shame of my denial
At the news of Easter-tide.
Was it crucial that I test truth
With my hand thrust in Christ’s side?
Was I so bound to five senses
As to claim the others erred?
Was I so steeped in self-pity
As to doubt if Jesus cared?
But Christ came by special measure
Just to put Thomas at rest;
And he offered up his body
For my eyes and hands to test.
It was true, my Lord had risen;
How my spirit was relieved;
Yet I know of greater blessing
Had I, seeing not, believed.
Oh, the joy down at the seaside
In that breakfast with the Lord,
As he fed our hunger and our faith,
While Peter was restored
To a confidence that Jesus
Knew his love for him ran deep;
To a challenge and a hope of
Fruitful years feeding Christ’s sheep.
Oh, the promise as he left us
In his bright ascension hour,
Of baptism in the Holy Ghost
With fire and with power.
Then the angels’ bless’d assurance
As Christ left our dry terrain,
That in this same way from Heaven’s clouds,
He would return again!
My Lord and my God! I shall believe with faith’s eyes now!
