"TO THIS END WAS I BORN"

In spite of deep sincerity of purpose and effort, many people are uncertain of their place in life and unsure of the rightness of their action under various circumstances encountered in human experience. Some feel that the tide of events has swept them too far from their course toward a cherished career, that too many interfering events have taken plate for them ever to resume their way again. Others may feel that the work they are performing falls short of their capabilities or is insufficiently appreciated.

The desire for human approbation of one's work is not to be dismissed lightly as childish vanity or as the hunger of some lonely one for human appreciation. As long as we have a mortal, personal sense of ourselves and others we shall probably look for some outward appreciation of our work as evidence that it has met a human need, that it has had value to someone other than ourselves. Otherwise it is as though the sun were shining into space but falling upon no object to give back its light, and we see no evidence of its shining.

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE
Poem
EVERY VALLEY EXALTED
October 11, 1947
Contents

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit