Ahasa Wethata Osawana Neth

Eyes lifted up toward the sky,
until they find their peace and close,
O God who made the sun, the moon, the stars,
stay here with me

Until your heart is joined to mine,
these eyes of mine will not close
through the trees, the vines, the ranges of mountains,
come to me

The joy within sorrow, the comfort, the tender love,
bring them, forever
may the healing spring that gives relief be poured out from you
the glory of a love, a father’s tenderness, bring it, forever
today and tomorrow and always, abide here with me

This is a hymn of longing for God’s abiding presence, and it opens with a picture of yearning: “eyes lifted up toward the sky, until they find their peace and close.” The singer gazes upward, waiting, and addresses the vast Creator, “O God who made the sun, the moon, the stars,” with a simple, intimate request that runs through the whole song, “stay here with me.” The wonder is that the Maker of the heavens is asked to come and stay in one small life.

The second verse deepens the waiting into a kind of holy insomnia of the soul, “until your heart is joined to mine, these eyes of mine will not close.” He will not rest until God draws near, and he pleads for that nearness through all the ordinary landscape of life, “through the trees, the vines, the ranges of mountains, come to me.” God is invited to arrive by any path, through the whole created world.

The closing verse gathers up everything the heart hopes to receive from that presence, “the joy within sorrow, the comfort, the tender love,” and asks for them “forever.” It longs for “the healing spring that gives relief” and “a father’s tenderness,” and lands on the request that says it all, “today and tomorrow and always, abide here with me.” What the listener is left with is the quiet ache of a soul that wants nothing more than for God to come and stay, forever, and the trust that the God who made the stars will answer such a homely, heartfelt invitation.