I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that I’m the only person in the world who reads through back issues of the Ann Arbor Baptist, a periodical from the late 1800s. But periodicals like that were the blogs of their era and within their pages I find such interesting articles and poems. One that I spotted recently (though I’ve spotted it in other works as well, sometimes adapted into a hymn) is Mary Brainard’s “I Know Not What Shall Befall Me,” a poem of trust in God’s character and his providence. It is well worth a read—aloud, of course, as poems are meant to be read.
I know not what shall befall me,
God hangs a mist o’er my eyes,
And each step in my onward path
He makes new scenes to rise,
And every joy He sends to me
Comes as a sweet surprise.
I see not a step before me
As I tread on another year,
But the past is still in God’s keeping,
The future His mercy shall clear,
And what looks dark in the distance
May brighten as I draw near.
For perhaps the dreaded future
Has less bitter than I think;
The Lord
