"THE CENTRE OF THE CIRCLE"

This poem was written by a missionary, Arthur Mathews, the last China Inland Missionary to be released from China after the Communist takeover in the early 1950s.  He, his wife and very young daughter were in Mongolia, under increasingly difficult times, including cold, illness, hunger, isolation, and treachery.  Eventually, his daughter and wife were freed, but he still was forced to stay behind for a number of months, during which time his life was frequently in jeopardy.

When first reading this poem, about 30 years ago, it struck a chord in my heart.  It continues to do so.  If I had been born on time, and not 5 weeks early, I would have arrived just about V-J day.   I’ve always had an awareness of the fragility of our existence as a society and a nation.

For a number of years as a child, I lived in fear of attack -- like many other Cold War kids -- but I think mine was heightened by my sense of responsibility to protect my sisters in Tacoma, a city near an Air Force base and Army base.  When Sputnik went up in October, 1957, I was 12 years old and, while standing in our front yard and watching it pass over, I vowed to myself that I would move to the center of the country when I grew up so I would be so far away that “they” [coastal invaders] couldn’t get me.

  

Many years later, in 1976, in Omaha, Nebraska, the center of our country (with no thought of that youthful vow), I was walking downtown during my lunch break, and the irony dawned on me: yes, I had grown up, and yes, I had moved to the center of the nation, but I had moved right next to Strategic Air Command at Offutt AFB, one of the most seriously operated bases in our nation/world.  While standing on a corner, waiting for a light to change, this hit me, suddenly.  And I laughed out loud at God’s sense of humor.

In light of events that occur, causing hearts to feel heavy or  hopeless, I share this poem with family and friends.  My desire is that encouragement will flood them and be reminded that ultimately we are held in the hands of God -- and the only safe place is in the center of His will.

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In the centre of the circle of the will of God I stand,

As I launch from sheltering harbour 

       to obey His last command.

What though waves o’erwhelm my vessel,

       and grim fears my faith assail,

Still I’ll stay upon His promise, for that cannot, 

      will not fail.

In the centre of the circle of the will of God I stand,

Where the warfare wages fiercest,

     ‘tis the place that He has planned.

Though dread foes may storm my castle, 

     and the battle seem but lost,

I will claim in Him the vict’ry, and hold on

    whate’er the cost.

In the centre of the circle of the will of God I stand,

There can be no second causes,

     all must come from His own hand.

When dark clouds obscure my vision, 

    and the way I may not see,

I will trust Him in the darkness, for I know

    He pilots me.

In the centre of the circle of the will of God I stand,

Though the circumstances round me 

    show small trace of His skilled Hand,

Yet in darkness as in daylight,

     in the gloom as sunshine fair,

I will trust Him for His presence, for I know 

    He’s always near!