rurorjuror.

This is a beautiful hymn I thought I’d share today. 

Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day 
Earth’s joys grow dim; its glories pass away 
Change and decay in all around I see 
Friend who changest not, abide with me.

People who abide with us are friends who can sit with sadness. That’s all abiding is, really. To be with someone. Not to reason, or deny, or rush through pain by force or guilt or shame. Not to try and fix, or silence, or lecture. To abide is to just sit, to be present for the unfolding of another person’s story.

-from sweetsalty.com