The Wilderness March

by Kathleen Huebener in Inspiration

He was better to me than all my hopes;

   He was better than all my fears;

He made a bridge of my broken works,

   And a rainbow of my tears.

The stormy waves that marked my ocean path,

   Did carry my Lord on their crest;

When I dwell on the days of my wilderness march

   I can lean on His love for the rest.


He emptied my hands of my treasured store,

   And His covenant love revealed,

There was not a wound in my aching heart,

   The balm of His breath has not healed.

Oh, tender and true was His discipline sore,

   In wisdom, that taught and tried,

Till the soul that He sought was trusting in Him,

   And nothing on earth beside.


He guided my paths that I could not see,

   By ways that I have not known;

The crooked was straight, and the rough was plain

   As I followed the Lord alone.

I praise Him still for the pleasant palms,

   And the desert streams by the way,

For the glowing pillar of flame by night,

   And the sheltering cloud by day.


Never a time on the dreariest day,

   But some promise of love endears;

I read from the past, that my future will be

   Far better than all my fears.

Like the golden jar of the wilderness bread,

   Stored up with the blossoming rod,

All safe in the ark, with the law of the Lord,

   Is the covenant care of my God.


                                  L.B Cowman