George MacDonald

Since the first of the year I’ve been reading a daily devotional written in the 18th century by a Scotsman named George MacDonald. A recent entry is so beautiful that I have to share it.

 

“I search my heart – I search, and find no faith.

Hidden he may be in its many folds –

I see him not revealed in all the world

Duty’s firm shape thins to a misty wraith.

No good seems likely. To and fro I am hurled.

I have to stay. Only obedience holds –

I haste, I rise, I do the thing he saith.”

 

Isn’t it lovely?

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