The Hymn below was penned by George Matheson, otherwise known as “The Blind Preacher”. He was the first of eight children, but the only one of his siblings who was born with poor eyesight.
Though his vision was blurry, his dreams for his future never seemed to be unclear. Through his growing-up years, he flourished in his education at Glasgow Academy and then pursued greater study at Glasgow University. He graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in 1861 with an emphasis on philosophy that would surely shed light on the writing he would do in his future. In 1862, only one year after finishing his Bachelors, he attained a Masters in philosophy.
While studying in school he would use powerful glasses to be able to see his work, and in-class would get the seat closest to the window for the best light. It was not long after he finished his studies until his poor sight drove him to become dependent upon others to accomplish almost anything. He was never completely blind, but he could only see shadows or outlines after finishing school.
In light of his ailment of poor sight, he had a reputation of being joyful, with a great spirit about him that was not easily discouraged. He didn’t speak of his bad eyesight, and most people who observed him preach or go about his life did not even know he was blind. There was only a short period where he seemed to struggle with great discouragement over his lack of eyesight, but it did not seem to stall him for long.
Matheson’s popularity grew and he was soon a very famous preacher. His name was known throughout Scotland. Those who heard him preach did not know he was blind because it appeared as if he was regularly looking down at his notes. His greatest tool in the pulpit was not his writing or his notes, but his memory. His memory enabled him to remember his sermon along with large portions of Scripture. In 1885 he was invited to come and preach to Queen Victoria by the Queen herself. He delivered a sermon entitled, “The Patience of Job.” The Queen was so moved by the sermon she asked for it to be printed and published for more people to be able to receive.
So on the night of his sister’s wedding he wrote this hymn. When he later wrote about the hymn’s conception, he recounted the following:
My hymn was composed in the manse of Innellan in Argyleshire, Scotland, on the evening of the 6th of June, 1882, when I was 40 years of age. I was alone in the manse at that time. It was the night of my sister’s marriage, and the rest of the family were staying overnight in Glasgow. Something happened to me, which was known only to myself, and which caused me the most severe mental suffering. The hymn was the fruit of that suffering. It was the quickest bit of work I ever did in my life. I had the impression of having it dictated to me by some inward voice rather than of working it out myself. I am quite sure that the whole work was completed in five minutes, and equally sure that it never received at my hands any retouching or correction. I have no natural gift of rhythm. All the other verses I have ever written are manufactured articles; this came like a dayspring from on high.
It is obvious that this was a special time of manifestation of the Holy Spirit for Matheson as he recorded the words that seemed to be ‘dictated to him’ and were not his own. It was an overflow from the ‘dayspring on high’ and not merely his own trickling thoughts.
O Love that will not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee.
I give thee back the life I owe,
that in thine ocean depths its flow
may richer, fuller be.
O Light that follows all my way,
I yield my flick’ring torch to thee.
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
that in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
may brighter, fairer be.
O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee.
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
and feel the promise is not vain,
that morn shall tearless be.
O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee.
I lay in dust, life’s glory dead,
and from the ground there blossoms red,
life that shall endless be.
George Matheson’s impact on the world is to be noted; not because of his great writing, preaching or ability to overcome his limitations. Rather, his impact came when he realised that the greatest gift he could give the world was his own intimacy with Christ.