From Manger to Mansion

Via Christ-Went Highway

[Note: These verses were received by the editor
only a short time before word came of the
sad death of President Joseph W. Booth, in Aleppo, Syria.]

By Joseph W. Booth

If my lot be a lowly manger,
Or if mine be treasures rare,
Then help me, O Lord, past the danger
Both of want, and of wealth with its care.

If I’m forced to flee into Egypt
To escape old Herod’s wrath,
Give me strength to return through the desert
To my future abode — Nazareth.

If I wonder away from my parents
And meet Doctors and scribes all around,
May my words, in both questions and answers,
Be not fickle, but wise and profound.

If I’m out in the desert and tempted
By Satan, while I hunger and thirst,
Help me choose, not the mere bread to live by,
But remind me that God’s word is first.

If I’m led to the brow of destruction,
To be hurled to my death, anon,
If it be not my hour to meet it,
Help me pass through the midst and be gone.

If the Tempest endanger my brother,
And he rouse me from rest and from sleep,
Let me calmly and lovingly aid him
To quiet the wind and the deep.

If some day I’m found beyond Jordan
With a multitude hungry for bread,
Though I have but two loaves and some fishes,
Let me share mine, that all may be fed.

If the noise and the cries of dear children
Are, to others, annoying, I see,
Let me give them a kiss and a blessing
And bid them all, “Come unto me.”

If the rabble surround me, and clamor
With bloodthirsty mien for my life,
Help me, Lord, to behave with composure,
And give them no cause for the strife.

If I see those defiling the Temple
Who are buying and selling with fraud,
May I ever be valiant, O Father,
In defending the house of my God.

If I pray in Gethsemane’s Garden,
While others, near by me, sleep on,
May no agony quench my desire
To pray, “Father, Thy will be done.”

If I must climb the slopes of Golgotha,
And I sink ’neath the Cross on the road;
God bless the dear friend who relieves me,
And helps, thus, to lighten my load.

Though the Cross be the end of my journey,
Yet I know that my spirit shall live;
While my flesh cries, ‘Why hast Thou forsaken,”
Let my soul plead, “O Father, Forgive.”

(1928)