Everybody seems to be very busy. Children, youth, adults, the elderly including retirees make the same complaint - busy. We received many letters during Christmas and again and again we read these words "Where has all the time gone?" I came across the following poem which I want to share with you.
We can find time for so many things
That claim it from day to day,
But we fully realise time as wings
When we fall on our knees to pray.
We can read or speak, we can sew or sing,
Or serve in the busiest way:
But it seems so often the hardest thing
To find the time to pray.
In the morning rise, be it early or late,
There are dozens of things to do,
Things so important they must not wait,
And are they not duties too?
And duty must never be left undone,
With a virtuous air we say:
So from time rising to setting sun,
We can't find time to pray.
At night when the purple shadows fall,
And the song of the birds are still,
And bonds of weariness so enthral
Body, and mind and will:
We are too tired to keep our vow
That at the close of day
We will talk with God; for our heads we bow
In sleep when we kneel to pray.
Just how it happens we scarce can tell:
For work we plan to do
Seems often failure though done so well,
And steadfastly carried through.
We look for a blessing, and lo a blast
With lightning upon its breath,
And we find the season for prayer at last
In the hour of pain and death.
Let's not forget - make time to pray.
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