 
A Brief Interruption
In Time of Temptation: His Sufficiency
Kevin T. Bauder
How came I here? A thousand times
I purposed that I would not tread
This wayward road—a thousand times
Turned I my feet in shame and dread,
Bethought me of Thy gracious smile
And cast me on Thy healing skill.
And yet, for each retreating mile,
A dozen, not against my will,
But hardly halting, onward drawn
Strode I, and further down and down,
Until my steps were well nigh gone.
What merit I, if not Thy frown?
For fear of that, I faithless fled,
And sought the darkness, where Thy face,
Now hid, might no more strike with dread.
Yet from Thee hid, I find no trace
Of peace or joy or gentleness.
Untrusting, trembling, terrified,
I cannot know Thy faithfulness.
If from the sun one turns to hide
One cannot know the joy of light;
Thus, if I should despise thy grace,
I must abide in graceless night.
My God, I tremble in this place.
The darkness mutters in my ears.
It whispers that Thy wrath is sure,
There is no help for all my fears,
My road has plunged me beyond cure.
Ashudder now, I taste despair
Arising in my throat. Why sob
Repentance into this black air?
I choke on fumes of guilt. They rob
My joy, corrode my moral sense,
Ignite the gulf that separates
My heart from Thine with flames of dense,
Slow, sluggish sloth that immolates
My trust in Thee.
Trust. Only trust.
Hast Thou not sworn? Will not Thine oath
Prevail? Could anyone more just
Confirm His testament? These both—
Thy vow and covenant—secure
Strong consolation, confident
Anticipation, to assure
My hope, anchor my soul, cement
My will to Thine. Arise my soul!
Before Him fear itself doth flee!
A flood of hope doth ever roll
Out from the Holy Place, where He
With His Own blood hath satisfied
The Law’s unflinching, just demand.
Yes! In thy place the Lamb has died,
And lives, with cleansing in His hand.
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