MAN . . . IS EVER CHANGING. Not a day passes but I am nearer the grave. Whatever my age, whatever the number of my years, I am ever narrowing the interval between time and eternity
… . O my God, I am crumbling away, as I go on! I am already dissolving into my first elements. My soul indeed cannot die, for you have made it immortal; but my bodily frame is continually resolving into that dust out of which it was taken.
EVERYTHING BELOW HEAVEN CHANGES: spring, summer, autumn, each has its turn. The fortunes of the world change. What was high lies low; what was low rises high. Riches take wings and flee away; bereavements happen. Friends become enemies, and enemies friends. Our wishes, aims, and plans change. There is nothing stable but you, O my God! And you are the center and life of all who change, who trust you as their Father, who look to you, and who are content to put themselves into your hands. . I…
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