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His Billows

All thy...billows are gone over me—Psalm 42:7.

They are His billows, whether they go over us
Hiding His face in smothering spray and foam,
Or, smooth and sparkling, spread a path before us,
And to our haven bear us safely home.

They are His billows, whether, for our succour,
He walks across them, stilling all our fear,
Or to our cry there comes nor aid nor answer,
And in the lonely silence none is near.

They are His billows, whether we are toiling
Through tempest-driven waves that never cease,
While deep to deep with clamor loud is calling,
Or at His word they hush themselves in peace.

They are His billows, whether He divides them,
Making us walk dry shod where seas had flowed,
Or lets tumultuous breakers surge about us
Rushing unchecked across our only road.

They are His billows, and He brings us through them;
So has He promised, so His love will do;
Keeping and leading, guiding and upholding,
To His sure harbor, He will bring us through.

- Annie Johnson

Flint V. Raymond Edman, But God!, (Zondervan Publishing House, Grand Rapids; 1962), p. 142

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