My rest from strife of tongues, my holy hill,
Fair is Thy pavilion, where I hold me still.
Back let them fall from me, my clamorous foes,
From crowding things of sense I flee, and in Thee hide.
Until this tyranny be overpast
Thy hand will hold me fast;
What though the tumult of the storm increase,
Grant to Thy servant strength, O Lord, and bless with peace.
~Amy Carmichael, Rose From Brier
"What He has done is the best, because He has done it, and I pray that as a family we may not cast about for explanations fo the mystery, but exult in the Holy Spirit, and say, 'I thank Thee, Father . . . . Even so, Father.' It suggests a lack of confidence in Him if we find it necessary to try to understand all He does."
~Rev. Frank Houghton, regarding the young death of his sister on the cusp of her long-desired missionary career (Ibid.)