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from the Committee on Ministry and Counsel This poem was written by Jo Eliot's grandmother, Henrietta R. Eliot, and was part of the memorial service for Jo in 2002. It offers nourishment in a time of stress in the world, and reveals something of the power of silent worship. Out of the Silence When weary with thyself and with the world-- For that each missile which thy hand hath hurled Against earth's wrongs, hath fallen on thy head, And each new prayer hath brought thee stones for bread---- Go for a space apart from all the din, And on some lonely hill, or wrapped within The healing silence of the waiting woods, Thou shalt find medicine for thy dark moods. For though no voice from riven skies shall cry, Nor angels troop, to right a world awry, Though in thine outward life no change be wrought, The soul within thee shall be newly taught. Henrietta R. Eliot |
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