A beautiful poem for those who long to serve. The poet is, to me, unknown.
I longed to walk along an easy road,
And leave behind the dull routine of home,
Thinking in other fields to serve my God;
But Jesus said, “My time has not yet come.”
I longed to sow the seed in other soil,
To be unshackled in the work, and free,
To join with other laborers in their toil;
But Jesus said, “It’s not My choice for thee.”
I longed to leave the desert, and be led
To work where souls were sunk in sin and shame,
That I might win them; but the Master said,
“I have not called you, publish here My name.”
I longed to fight the battles of my King,
Lift high His standards in the thickest strife;
But my great Captain had me wait and sing
Songs of His conquests in my quiet life.
I longed to leave the hard and difficult sphere,
Where all alone I seemed to stand and wait,
To feel I had some human helper near,
But Jesus had me guard one lonely gate.
I longed to leave the common daily toil,
Where no one seemed to understand or care;
But Jesus said, “I choose for you this soil,
That you might raise for Me some blossoms rare.”
And now I have no longing but to do
At home, or far away, His blessed will,
To work amid the many or the few;
Thus, “choosing not to choose,” my heart is still.