Angelina

As I have been singing the Hymns of Zion as I walk three miles daily on the treadmill to prepare for my Rocky Ridge trek in August, I've found that the hymn "A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief" is an amazing handbook on Latter-day preparedness, among many other things.

It is to be played and sung "peacefully". Interesting. If we are prepared we shall not fear; we shall have peace in our hearts.

Well noted as a favorite of the prophet Joseph Smith, it outlines what we need to do to prepare ourselves spiritually and temporally to meet our Savior at the Second Coming and to qualify for exaltation in His presence.

Could it be that even in his last hours, the Prophet, in asking John Taylor to sing this hymn, was less seeking comfort for himself than actually gently teaching his friends and each Latter-day Saint one of his greatest sermons? This is my interpretation of what, perhaps, the Prophet may have wanted us to learn from his last message.

Stanza 1:

A poor, wayfaring Man of grief
Hath often crossed me on my way,
Who sued so humbly for relief
That I could never answer nay.
I had not pow’r to ask his name,
Whereto he went, or whence he came;
Yet there was something in his eye
That won my love; I knew not why.

This, to me, means that we are to first and foremost be faithful to our baptismal covenant to give spiritual and emotional relief, comfort, friendship and cheer to those who need it-- those who are mourning, discouraged and mentally ill. Aren't we all in those categories to some degree at some point?

I had not pow’r to ask his name,
Whereto he went, or whence he came;

We don't need to know their names, their circumstances, where they're going or how they got into trouble. Doesn't matter. There is something in every downcast, depressed, mentally ill person's eye: the seed of divinity, of potential godhood that we all share. Can we see this in every person we meet?

I have thought at times that for all our preparedness efforts, perhaps we're most weak in preparing to deal with the widespread emotional and mental challenges, such as PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) in the wake of disaster, violence and trauma. We don't have to become pyschiatrists, but perhaps it's a good idea to read up on church literature on how to deal with this suffering as our Savior would have us do. And learn natural therapies, as well.

Stanza 2:

Once, when my scanty meal was spread,
He entered; not a word he spake,
Just perishing for want of bread.
I gave him all; he blessed it, brake,
And ate, but gave me part again.
Mine was an angel’s portion then,
For while I fed with eager haste,
The crust was manna to my taste.

This stanza, to me, expresses the classic need for storing food. To share. I know this is a topic for much discussion but for the purposes of this post, I feel that the message from this hymn is that our food is to be shared.

I gave him all;

Are we emotionally prepared to give away our entire meal to a hungry stranger?

And ate, but gave me part again.

I am certain that as we do so, we will be given a portion back.

Mine was an angel’s portion then,
For while I fed with eager haste,
The crust was manna to my taste.

Even if the portion we receive back is just a crust, it will still fill and bless us.

Stanza 3:

I spied him where a fountain burst
Clear from the rock; his strength was gone.
The heedless water mocked his thirst;
He heard it, saw it hurrying on.
I ran and raised the suff’rer up;
Thrice from the stream he drained my cup,
Dipped and returned it running o’er;
I drank and never thirsted more.

Water. We must store water. We must also build up our reserves and share our spiritual water from the fountains of living water-- our Savior.

I ran and raised the suff’rer up;

How many of us are out there, running to help others in need?

Thrice from the stream he drained my cup,
Dipped and returned it running o’er;
I drank and never thirsted more.

Again, if we are willing to share not once, not twice, but three times-- we will have, as with the food, a miracle of literal physical water returning to us overflowing. And we will be blessed spiritually as well, as the Savior said in this regard, of never thirsting more.


Stanza 4:

’Twas night; the floods were out; it blew
A winter hurricane aloof.
I heard his voice abroad and flew
To bid him welcome to my roof.
I warmed and clothed and cheered my guest
And laid him on my couch to rest,
Then made the earth my bed and seemed
In Eden’s garden while I dreamed.

Floods. Storms. Winter storms. Hurricanes. They're happening currently and are going to get worse and more frequent, as we all know.

To bid him welcome to my roof.

Are we prepared to welcome others to our source of shelter?

I warmed and clothed and cheered my guest

Are we prepared with a source of heat, clothing and cheer (such as hot chocolate )?

And laid him on my couch to rest,

Are we prepared with warm bedding? Can we sleep on the cold ground while others are in our warm beds?

In Eden’s garden while I dreamed.

Again, we will be blessed.


Stanza 5:

Stript, wounded, beaten nigh to death,
I found him by the highway side.
I roused his pulse, brought back his breath,
Revived his spirit, and supplied
Wine, oil, refreshment—he was healed.
I had myself a wound concealed,
But from that hour forgot the smart,
And peace bound up my broken heart.

Do we know how to treat what wounds we're going to see?

I roused his pulse, brought back his breath,

Are we CPR certified? Do we know at least basic medicine? Do we know our herbs, essential oils, and other natural therapies?

Revived his spirit, and supplied
Wine, oil, refreshment—he was healed.

Spiritual and emotional revival, as discussed, as well as oil-- consecrated oil-- the power of the priesthood to heal.

I had myself a wound concealed,
But from that hour forgot the smart,
And peace bound up my broken heart.

We are healed physically and spiritually as we serve and heal others.

Stanza 6:

In pris’n I saw him next, condemned
To meet a traitor’s doom at morn.
The tide of lying tongues I stemmed,
And honored him ’mid shame and scorn.
My friendship’s utmost zeal to try,
He asked if I for him would die.
The flesh was weak; my blood ran chill,
But my free spirit cried, “I will!”

This reminds me of our temple covenants.

And finally, in Stanza 7:

Then in a moment to my view
The stranger started from disguise.
The tokens in his hands I knew;
The Savior stood before mine eyes.
He spake, and my poor name he named,
“Of me thou hast not been ashamed.
These deeds shall thy memorial be;
Fear not, thou didst them unto me.”

This is applicable on so many levels: our journey in the temple, our journey in preparing spiritually and temporally to meet the Savior face to face at His Second Coming, and our journey to exaltation.

May this hymn continue to inspire us all in our spiritual and temporal preparedness journeys, as we love and serve each other-- the poor, wayfaring children of God in these latter days.

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