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A rural housewife, Fay Inchfawn, who lived a generation ago, wrote these lines on her need and expectancy of God’s presence which speak to us of the more sophisticated frustrations of our modern day:

Sometimes, when everything goes wrong;
When days are short and nights are long,
When wash day brings so dull a sky,
That not a single thing will dry.

And when the kitchen chimney smokes,
And when there’s none so “old” as folks;
When friends deplore my faded youth,
And when the baby cuts a tooth.

While John, the baby last but one,
Clings round my skirts till day is done;
And fat, good-natured Jane is glum
And butcher’s man forgets to come.

Sometimes I say, on days like these
I get a sudden gleam of bliss.
Not on some sunny day of ease
He’ll come…but on a day like this.

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