We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain.
Out of the night that covers me,
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
It matters not how strait the gate,
by William Ernest Henley
“God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love, and of self-discipline.”