Love’s Delay

‘Tis Mary’s eager voice: “Be quick!

He whom Thou lovest, Lord, is sick.”

O, not one moment shall He waste,

But surely He will come in haste

And raise the sick one with His touch,

For these are His, He loves them much.

Was it because He did not care,

That yet two days He waited there?

Our precious Lord is never late;

‘Twas boundless love that made Him wait.

Could they not see it, as they cried,

“Hadst thou been here, he had not died?”

“Remove the stone,” “But Lord,” they said,

“By now four days he has been dead.”

But still they rolled the stone away,

And Jesus raised His eyes to pray,

That those who watched might hear His words

And know the miracle was God’s.

Then, “Lazarus, come forth!” He said,

And he came forth, who had been dead.

O Hear of love that stoops to save,

And reigns triumphant o’er the grave!

Yes, many souls were touched that day,

And Mary saw ‘twas love’s delay.

Have you been praying long, beloved,

And yet it seems God has not moved

To clear the mountain you had named

Or grant the promise that you claimed?

Have you been asking open doors,

Yet paths of solitude are yours?

The night is spend; the Saviour’s day

Is waiting just across the way.

Be not dismayed, O friend; pray through–

Remember, Jesus loves you, too.

Perhaps through sorrow He would speak;

He wants your restless soul to seek.

Until in grim despair, you try

And find that He can satisfy.

Perhaps His moment is not yet,

But trust in Him–He’ll not forget.

O child of God, look up and pray.

Remember, it is love’s delay.

By Barbara C. Ryberg