Saturday, November 12, 2016

Gladdest Certainty





Hark, chimes of gladdest Certainty
Toll through Time’s groan of care
Yet ages, like a rolling sea
Cannot man's Hope despair

The power of an hour takes
And gives in sleek alloy
The flower of its bower breaks
In both sorrow and joy

While hope unadulterated
In ageless Pureness beams
The dark cannot overtake it
Or mute what grace esteems

Where chimes of gladdest Certainty
Calms fear’s calamity
God WAS, IS and WILL EVER BE
The love that sets us free

© Janet Martin

 This is love: not that we loved God, 
but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.

Sometimes, (esp. this week in the aftermath of the American election, the fever thereof having trickled over the border into Canada) when hateful things are said, I’m inclined to believe it is not hate but fear that drives awful words from the tongue.
Tell me, please, after all the Remembering ceremonies of yesterday, how can we bear to nurture anything but love?
Time is short.
We need each other.
Every one of us.


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