| The Every Day of Life |
Chapter 14 |
Page 5 |
Many of us find our plans broken into continually by what we are apt to call the accidents of life. The mothers in the home are interrupted all day and kept back in their work by their children who clamor for attention, for nursing, for care. Busy men meet constant hindrances, which break into their hours and interfere with their plans. Who does not many a time have his day’s beautiful schedule disarranged by little things that come in, without announcement, and claim his thought, his time, and his strength? Sometimes we may be disposed to chafe a little at what seems to be interferences with the program we have mapped out for ourselves in the morning. But we should remember that we are learning by practice. We promised to go God’s will all day, and these things are God’s will for us. We had left no place for doing thing for God, and he had to force them into our well-ordered schedule. Susan Coolidge has put this though in a very striking way in one of her poems – “Interrupted.” The day’s plan was made with the resolve that nothing should turn the feet aside.
“But interruptions all day long,
And little vexing hindrances,
Each weak, but all together strong,
Came one by one to fret and tease,
And balk my purpose, and displease.
Friendship laid fetters on the noon,
And fate threw sudden burdens down,
And hours were short, and strength failed soon,
And darkness came the day to drown;
Hope changed to grief and smile to frown,
Then I said sadly: ‘All is vain;
No use there is in planning aught.
Labor is wasted once again,
And wisdom is to folly brought,
And all the day has gone for naught.’
Then spoke a voice within my soul:
‘The day was yours, and will was free,
And self was guide, and self was goal;
Each hour was full as hour could be -
What space was left, my child, for Me!’
‘These “hindrances” which made you fret,
These “interruptions” one by one,
They were but sudden tasks I set,
My errands for your feet to run:
Will you disdain them, child, or shun?
Oh, blind of heart, and dull of soul!
I only felt, the long day through,
That I was thwarted of my goal,
And chafed rebelliously, nor knew
The Lord had aught for me to do.
Forgive me, Lord, my selfish day,
Touch my sealed eyes, and bid them wake
To see thy tasks along the way,
Thy errands, which my hands may take,
And do them gladly for thy sake.”
“But interruptions all day long,
And little vexing hindrances,
Each weak, but all together strong,
Came one by one to fret and tease,
And balk my purpose, and displease.
Friendship laid fetters on the noon,
And fate threw sudden burdens down,
And hours were short, and strength failed soon,
And darkness came the day to drown;
Hope changed to grief and smile to frown,
Then I said sadly: ‘All is vain;
No use there is in planning aught.
Labor is wasted once again,
And wisdom is to folly brought,
And all the day has gone for naught.’
Then spoke a voice within my soul:
‘The day was yours, and will was free,
And self was guide, and self was goal;
Each hour was full as hour could be -
What space was left, my child, for Me!’
‘These “ hindrances” which made you fret,
These “ interruptions” one by one,
They were but sudden tasks I set,
My errands for your feet to run:
Will you disdain them, child, or shun?
Oh, blind of heart, and dull of soul!
I only felt, the long day through,
That I was thwarted of my goal,
And chafed rebelliously, nor knew
The Lord had aught for me to do.
Forgive me, Lord, my selfish day,
Touch my sealed eyes, and bid them wake
To see thy tasks along the way,
Thy errands, which my hands may take,
And do them gladly for thy sake.”
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