Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune--without the words, And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me
-Emily Dickinson
1 comment:
"For I said in my haste, I am cut off from before thine eyes: nevertheless thou heardest the voice of my supplications when I cried unto thee." Psalm 31:22
I heard a really good sermon on hope last night--well, I'm not sure it was 'on' hope, but he talked about it a lot. :-)
http://www.marshillchurch.org/media/trial/temptation-from-sin
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