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The Secret of Rest

Freda Hanbury Allen
That I May Know Him

"I will give you rest... and you will find rest for your souls"
— Matthew 11:28-29

Rest! Give me rest, dear Master. From my way
Remove those things that try me day by day—
The small annoyance, or the heavy care—
That sometimes seems too much for me to bear
With Christlike patience and humility.
O Master, give me fuller liberty!
Thou know’st I’d gladly live apart with Thee
But there are earthly ties that fetter me.
There are so many things to care about—
Small things, and yet if they should be left out
Someone must suffer. Only little things,
Poor service, which but little glory brings
To Thy dear name. And I am wearied sore—
Each day I only grow perplexed the more.
Oh, give me rest, dear Master; set me free
To spend my life in greater work for Thee.

And Jesus heard my cry, and gave me rest;
Not as I prayed—I knew not what was best.
Not by removing from my lot all care,
Not by allowing me in grief no share,
Not by withholding all that grieved or vexed me,
Not by explaining all that had perplexed me,
Not by permitting me to take my ease,
And only do such things as I should please.
No; a rebellious child I was. He knew
That greater work for Him I could not do
While in the "little things" I failed and fell.
O Jesus, Master, Thou hast loved me well,
In that thou answeredst not my foolish prayer.
Thou knew’st I could not rest me anywhere
While selfish ease I sought. And far from rest
I still had been, unsatisfied, unblest,
Hadst Thou but granted my unwise desire.

Instead, Thou showedst me a life far higher,
Where I might sweetly rest and yet fulfill
That daily work which was for me Thy will.
It was not service great Thou gavest me,
Such as to few is given to do for Thee;
But, in the common things of daily life,
I proved how sweetly Thou couldst calm all strife,
And put an end to all the discontent
Which once my weary heart so sorely rent.
Thou gavest rest just in those very things
Which once my spirit chafed. And now it sings
A quiet song of joyful praise to Thee,
And does no longer wish to be set free
From those dear bonds which Thy blest hand has given,
Since now it sees in them but steps to heaven.