“And a vision appeared to Paul in the night:
a man of Macedonia was standing there,
urging him and saying, “Come over to
Macedonia and help us.”
Struggling with God’s call and timing
Listening, testing, praying, trying
Hints of paths that might be right;
Casting fleeces—spiritual lots,
Straining, seeking heaven’s sight,
Tying our souls in nervous knots;
Searching here, looking yonder,
Watching for our Guide we wander,
Knowing the seed but not the field;
At every turn we’re forced to stop.
In aching hope we’re made to yield.
Is this the place or is it not?
Finally in frustration’s burning torment
Comes a vision in the resting moment.
A man in foreign face and garb,
Calls from camelback or city bus.
He makes His words a piercing barb,
“Come over here, help us, tell us!”
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