Lean hard: the loving hand of the Father in affliction

afflicted 2

Child of My love, lean hard,
And let Me feel the pressure of thy care;
I know the burden, child, I shaped it;
Poised it in My own hand—made no proportion
In its weight to thine unaided strength;
For even as I laid it on, I said,
I shall be near, and while she leans on Me,
This burden shall be Mine not hers;
So shall I keep My child within the circling arms
Of My own love. Here lay it down, nor fear
To impose it on a shoulder which upholds
The government of worlds. Yet closer come;
Thou art not near enough; I would embrace thy care
So I might feel My child reposing on My breast.
Thou lovest Me? I knew it. Doubt not then;
But loving Me lean hard.

Streams in the desert

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