“Oh Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining. It is the night of the dear savior’s birth. Long lay the world in sin and error, pining, til He appeared and the soul felt its worth. A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices. For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.”
I’ve grown weary trying to make my soul worthy, but I cannot. I rejoice that I don’t have to. I am already all that’s needed. He doesn’t appear when I make myself worthy. He appears because my soul is already. All which falls on me is to feel that; then He, always there, appears to my eyes.