The Will of GodThou sweet, beloved Will of God,
My anchor ground, my fortress hill,
My spirit’s silent, fair abode,
In Thee I hide me, and am still.
O Will, that willest good alone,
Lead Thou the way, Thou guidest best;
A little child I follow on,
And trusting lean upon Thy breast.
Thy beautiful, sweet Will, my God,
Holds fast in Its sublime embrace
My captive will, a gladsome bird,
Prisoned in such a realm of grace.
Within this place of certain good,
Love ever more expands her wings;
Or, nestling in Thy perfect choice,
Abides content with what it brings.
Oh, sweetest burden, lightest yoke,
It lifts, it bears my happy soul,
It giveth wings to this poor heart:
My freedom is Thy grand control.
Upon God’s Will I lay me down,
As child upon its mother’s breast;
No silken couch, nor softest bed,
Could ever give me such sweet rest.
Thy wonderful, grand Will, my God
With triumph now I make It mine,
And Love shall cry a jealous Yes,
To every dear command of Thine. —Gerhard Tersteegen
Craig T. Owens 
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