“Pray that your loneliness may spur you into finding something to live for, great enough to die for.” [Dag Hammarskjöld, Markings, Trans. by Leif Sjöberg and W. H. Auden (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc./Faber and Faber, Ltd., 1964), 72.]
"O Jesus, my dear Christ, thank You for being forsaken by God and man (Matthew 27:46; Mark 15:34; cf., Psalm 22:1) so that I would not have to remain lonely eternally. Thank You for being the 'something,' or rather, the 'Someone' 'to live for, great enough to die for.' You lived and died and live now for me, why shouldn't I live and die for You? Amen."
A Christian blog with comments on Faith, Family, and all of life coram Deo (1 Corinthians 10:31)
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Saturday, April 10, 2010
To Die Rightly is The Hardest Thing of All
“The hardest thing of all—to die rightly.—An exam nobody is spared—and how many pass it? And you? You pray for strength to meet the test—but also for leniency on the part of the Examiner.”
[Dag Hammarskjöld, Markings, Trans. by Leif Sjöberg and W. H. Auden (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc./Faber and Faber, Ltd., 1964), 68.]
"Heavenly Father, may I 'work the works of Him who sent me while it is day; the night is coming when no one can work.' (John 9:4). May I be able to say with the Apostle Paul: 'I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.' (2 Timothy 4:7). May I be able to say to You when I see You face-to-face, as did my Lord Jesus, 'I have glorified You on the earth. I have finished the work which You have given me to do.' (John 17:4). And oh, may I hear those precious words from my King one day: 'Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world' (Matthew 25:34). Amen. So be it."
[Dag Hammarskjöld, Markings, Trans. by Leif Sjöberg and W. H. Auden (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc./Faber and Faber, Ltd., 1964), 68.]
"Heavenly Father, may I 'work the works of Him who sent me while it is day; the night is coming when no one can work.' (John 9:4). May I be able to say with the Apostle Paul: 'I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.' (2 Timothy 4:7). May I be able to say to You when I see You face-to-face, as did my Lord Jesus, 'I have glorified You on the earth. I have finished the work which You have given me to do.' (John 17:4). And oh, may I hear those precious words from my King one day: 'Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world' (Matthew 25:34). Amen. So be it."
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Ovid on Birth and Death
"To be born, is to begin to be
Some other thing we were not formerly:
And what we call to die, is not t' appear,
Or be the thing that formerly we were."
Ovid, from Metamorphoses, Vol. 4, Book XV.
Some other thing we were not formerly:
And what we call to die, is not t' appear,
Or be the thing that formerly we were."
Ovid, from Metamorphoses, Vol. 4, Book XV.
"Crossing the Bar" by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea.
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea.
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.
"Remember" by Christina Rossetti
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that I once had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that I once had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
"On Another's Sorrow" by William Blake
Can I see a falling tear
And not feel my sorrow's share?
Can a father see his child
Weep, nor be with sorrow fill'd?
Can a mother sit and hear
An infant groan an infant fear?
No, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!
And can he who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small bird's grief & care,
Hear the woes that infants bear,
And not sit beside the nest
Pouring pity in their breast;
And not sit the cradle near
Weeping tear on infant's tear;
And not sit both night & day
Wiping all our tears away?
O! no never can it be!
Never, never can it be!
He doth give his joy to all;
He becomes an infant small;
He becomes a man of woe;
He doth feel the sorrow too.
Think not thou canst sigh a sigh
And thy maker is not by;
Think not thou canst weep a tear
And thy maker is not near.
O! he gives to us his joy
That our grief he may destroy;
Till our grief is fled & gone
He doth sit by us and moan.
And not feel my sorrow's share?
Can a father see his child
Weep, nor be with sorrow fill'd?
Can a mother sit and hear
An infant groan an infant fear?
No, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!
And can he who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small bird's grief & care,
Hear the woes that infants bear,
And not sit beside the nest
Pouring pity in their breast;
And not sit the cradle near
Weeping tear on infant's tear;
And not sit both night & day
Wiping all our tears away?
O! no never can it be!
Never, never can it be!
He doth give his joy to all;
He becomes an infant small;
He becomes a man of woe;
He doth feel the sorrow too.
Think not thou canst sigh a sigh
And thy maker is not by;
Think not thou canst weep a tear
And thy maker is not near.
O! he gives to us his joy
That our grief he may destroy;
Till our grief is fled & gone
He doth sit by us and moan.
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