September 1, 2014 - Heavenly Rest

photo by Richard Quick
ACIM Workbook Lesson #244
“I am in danger nowhere in the world."

Generally when I read the topic for today's lesson, I think of my world-traveling son, Aaron, who supplies many of the photographs I use in these writings. But today when I read last year's entry with the accompanying Mary Baker Eddy poem, which is set to music and is one of my favorites, I was reminded of something which happened on the last day of August in 1998. On that day, I purchased the Honda Odyssey which I still drive and we were on our way home when we saw a car which had run off the road. We stopped to help and it turned out there were two women and three children in the vehicle. One of the children was bleeding from a wound in her side and they were all crying hysterically. I got a blanket out of my car and wrapped the injured child in it, pulling her to my lap. As we sat on the ground, I started singing this peaceful song to her. Soon everyone quieted down and the authorities arrived. We quickly were on our way home, feeling we had christened our car with peace!

Mary Baker Eddy poem:
Mother's Evening Prayer

O gentle presence, peace and joy and power;
         O Life divine, that owns each waiting hour,
Thou Love that guards the nestling's faltering flight!
         Keep Thou my child on upward wing tonight.

Love is our refuge; only with mine eye
         Can I behold the snare, the pit, the fall:
His habitation high is here, and nigh,
         His arm encircles me, and mine, and all.

O make me glad for every scalding tear,
         For hope deferred, ingratitude, disdain!
Wait, and love more for every hate, and fear
         No ill, — since God is good, and loss is gain.

Beneath the shadow of His mighty wing;
         In that sweet secret of the narrow way,
Seeking and finding, with the angels sing:
         "Lo, I am with you alway," — watch and pray.

No snare, no fowler, pestilence or pain;
         No night drops down upon the troubled breast,
When heaven's aftersmile earth's tear-drops gain,
         And mother finds her home and heav'nly rest.
(Poems by Mary Baker Eddy, pp. 4, 5)



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