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 Priscilla's Friends
 
For Every Hill
 
For every stone that bruised my feet, 
For all the blood and sweat and grime, 
For blinding storms and burning heat 
My heart sings but a grateful song -- 
These were the things that made me strong! 

For all the heartaches and the tears, 
For all the anguish and the pain, 
For gloomy days and fruitless years, 
And for the hopes that lived in vain, 
I do give thanks, for now I know 
These were the things that helped me grow! 

'Tis not the softer things of life 
Which stimulate man's will to strive; 
But bleak adversity and strife 
Do most to keep man's will alive, 
O'er rose-strewn paths the weaklings creep, 
But brave hearts dare to climb the steep. 

- Source Unknown

 
rowland @ johnmarkministries . org
Email Jan and Rowland