Helping By Prayer

I sometimes think God’s heart must ache,
Listening to all the sad, complaining cries,
That from our weak, impatient souls arise,
Because we do not see that for our sake
He answers not, or answers otherwise
Than seems the best to our tear-blinded eyes.
This is love’s hardest task, to do hard things
For love’s own sake, then bear the murmurings
Of ignorance, too dull to judge aright
The love that rises to this wond’rous height
He knows we have not yet attained; and so
He wearies not, but bears complaint and moan,
And shields each willing heart against his own,
Knowing that some glad day we too shall know.