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,
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 Wilson-Carmichael, Toward Jerusalem
This week, I am regathering. I am finding that I always do this after I go, because it shakes me up so. much. Sometimes “rest” is my greatest commission; sometimes opening my heart means hiding in His for a while.
Forgive my quietness here? I am taking some time to breathe, to rest, and to prepare for going again this Friday. I hope to have some pictures for you tomorrow, though. I photographed some lovely, lovely women last weekend.