O Thou Who Art My Quietness

O Thou who art my quietness, my deep repose,

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,

Confusions multiplied;

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.)