‘Has God forgotten to be gracious?
Has he in his anger withheld his mercies?
Has his right hand lost its grasp?
Does it hang powerless the arm of the Most High?’

Forgive my vehemence, Lord, but when I think of your power and my miseries, of your promises and my failures, I feel that something is wrong, and I express the frustration of my heart in the despair of my words. Have you failed me, Lord? Have you let me down? Where are all my efforts, my prayers, my hopes? I am the same old wreck I always was, nothing has improved in me, my temper continues to hurt people, my intemperance continues to hurt me, my passions are stronger than ever and my failures multiply with age. Where is your power, your mercy, your grace? Where is the might of your hands? Has your right hand lost its grip? Does your arm hang powerless? Have you lost your influence in human affairs? Have you lost your interest?

I speak for me and I speak for the friends and companions with whom I share the work of the Kingdom, and with whom I speak of the disillusionment that chills us when we compare the earnestness of our efforts with the meagerness of our results.

‘Will the Lord reject us for evermore
and never again show favour?
Has his unfailing love now failed us utterly?
Must his promise time and again be unfulfilled?’

When the cloud of disappointment sweeps over me I feel discouragement and despair. Dreams are not fulfilled, ideals not reached, the Kingdom does not arrive. I know my defects, and I know the failings of the human race. But I also know the firmness of your promises and the power of your hand. Don’t let your hand rest idle, Lord. The hand that created the world, that opened the sea, that brought down massive walls can now do much more that that, beyond the figure of those material events, in the reality of the lives of men and the welfare of their souls. There is where your marvellous works are to shine, where your right hand has to exert its power.