Meditations in a Small Anglican Parish

Who is this God I cannot see?
My trembling heart can answer naught
But longing, fearful, desperate, cries
For guidance: “truth shall set you free.”

I see Him in the glowing glass
As tiny babe who was foresought;
He sleeps, He wakes, He laughs, He cries-
Divine contained. How can this be?

I see Him on the crucifix
As Innocence in sinful blot;
The Savior, in his anguish, cries;
Through blood he makes the sinner free.

Who is this God I cannot see?
A Shepherd who, all pains forgot,
Will save the sheep who, bleating, cries,
And whisper, “Come and follow Me.”

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