Where refugees seek deliverance that never comesAnd the heart consumes itself as if it would live,Where children age before their timeAnd life wears down the edges of the mind,Where the old man sits with mind grown cold,While bones and sinew, blood and cell, go slowly down to death,Where fear companions each day's life,And Perfect Love seems long delayed.CHRISTMAS IS WAITING TO BE BORN:In you, in me, in all mankind.
My thoughts hold mortal strife;I do detest my life,And with lamenting criesPeace to my soul to bringOft call that prince which here doth monarchise:— But he, grim-grinning King,Who caitiffs scorns, and doth the blest surprise,Late having deck'd with beauty's rose his tomb,Disdains to crop a weed, and will not come.drummond, william, of hawthornden
God, give us grace to accept with serenitythe things that cannot be changed,courage to change the thingswhich should be changed,and the wisdom to distinguishthe one from the other.Living one day at a time,Enjoying one moment at a time,Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,Taking, as Jesus did,This sinful world as it is,Not as I would have it,Trusting that You will make all things right,If I surrender to Your will,So that I may be reasonably happy in this life,And supremely happy with You forever in the next.Amen.Reinhold Niebuhr
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