Antoinette Goetschius
April 26, 2011
When I am sore beset, I seek some quiet place,Some lonely room or barren windswept ill, And there in silence wait apart until I see again the smile upon God’s face; Until His presence floods me like the dawn, And I can hear His whispered, Peace, be still, And know the strength to do His will.I turn to take my load and find it gone.