Reflecting on the past few years here in the Philly area, I’ve realized how much my faith has grown. This is surprising considering how incredibly often I have been plagued by doubt here at seminary. I feel like I have survived the turbulent waters of ‘being honest with the text’ and ‘letting the text be the text’ and have passed to the serenity of a 2nd naivete. But as I reflected on that and praised God for his hand in all of it, I came across a poem that I have really become attached to in the past few days. It’s by Anne Bronte, third of the famous Bronte sisters (Charlotte & Emily) and is found in an amazing book called A Sacrifice of Praise which is “an anthology of Christian poetry in English from Caedmon to the mid-twentieth century.”
My God (oh, let me call Thee mine,
Weak, wretched sinner though I be),
My trembling soul would fain be Thine;
My feeble faith still clings to Thee.
Not only for the past I grieve,
The future fills me with dismay;
Unless Thou hasten to relieve,
Thy suppliant is a castaway.
I cannot say my faith is strong,
I dare not hope my love is great;
But strength and love to Thee belong:
Oh, do not leave me desolate!
I know I owe my all to Thee;
Oh, take the heart I cannot give;
Do Thou my Strength, my Savior be,
And make me to Thy glory live!