Oh, it is hard to work for God,
To rise and take His part,
Upon this battlefield of earth,
And not sometimes lose heart!
He hides Himself so wondrously,
As though there were no God;
He is least seen when all the powers
Of ill are most abroad.
Or He deserts us at the hour,
The fight is all but lost;
And seems to leave us to ourselves
Just when we need Him most.
Yes, there is less to try our faith
In our mysterious creed
Than in the godless look of earth
In these our hours of need.
Ill masters good: good seems to change
To ill with greatest ease;
And worst of all, the good with good
Is at cross-purposes.
It is not so, but so it looks,
And we lose courage then;
And doubts will come if God hath kept
His promises to men.
Ah! God is other than we think;
His ways are far above,
Beyond our reason's height, and reached
Only by childlike love.
The look, the fashion, of God's ways
Love's lifelong study are;
She can be bold, and guess, and act
When reason would not dare.
-Frederick William Faber
It took me a while to understand this poem. Please take the time to read it over, until you understand it. It will be worth it. :)