O Thou who art my quietness, my deep repose...

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 image

And this quality of quietness, ordinariness, simplicity...

There is no need for peculiar conditions in order to grow in the spiritual life, for the pressure of God’s Spirit is present everywhere and at all times. Our environment itself, our home and our job, is the medium through which we experience His moulding action and His besetting love. It is not Christian to try to get out of our frame, or to separate our outward life from our life of prayer, since both are the creation of one Charity. The third-rate little town in the hills, with its limited social contacts and monotonous manual work, reproves us when we begin to fuss about our opportunities and our scope. And this quality of quietness, ordinariness, simplicity, with which the saving action of God enters history, endures from the beginning to the end. ...Evelyn Underhill
image by Horia Varlan

O Thou who art my quietness, my deep repose...

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 photo