Once more I would speak of Him.
God gave me the voice and the burning lips though not the speech.
And unworthy am I for the fuller word, yet I would summon my heart to my lips.
Jesus loved me and I knew not why.
And I loved Him because He quickened my spirit to heights beyond my stature, and to depths beyond my sounding.
Love is a sacred mystery.
To those who love, it remains forever wordless;
But to those who do not love, it may be but a heartless jest.
Jesus called me and my brother when we were labouring in the field.
I was young then and only the voice of dawn had visited my ears.
But His voice and the trumpet of His voice was the end of my labour and the beginning of my passion.
And there were naught for me then but to walk in the sun and worship the loveliness of the hour.
Could you conceive a majesty too kind to be majestic? And a beauty too radiant to seem beautiful?
Could you hear in your dreams a voice shy of its own rapture?