I'm not one for poetry, but once in a while a poem really speaks to me. This one I just read yesterday from Shaping of a Christian Family (again by Elisabeth Elliot).

An anonymous poem "greatly comforting and fortifying in all kinds of circumstances, especially the kind that would tend toward the paralysis which self pity brings:

From an old English parsonage down by the sea
There came in the twilight a message to me;
Its quaint Saxon lengend, deeply engraven,
Hath, it seems to me, teaching from Heaven.
And on through the hours the quiet words ring
Like a low inspiration: "DOE THE NEXTE THYNGE."

Many a question, many a fear,
Many a doubt, hath its quieting here.
Moment by moment, let down from Heaven,
Time, opportunity, guidance, are given.
Fear not tomorrows, child of the King,
Trust them with JEsus, doe the nexte thynge.

Do it immediately, do it with prayer;
Do it reliantly, casting all care;
Do it with reverence, tracing His hand
Who placed it before thee with eaernest command.
Stayed on Omnipotence, safe 'neath His wing.
Leave all resultings, doe the nexte thynge.

Looking to Jesus, ever serener,
Working or suffering, be thy demeanor;
In His dear presence, the rest of His calm,
The light of His countenance be thy psalm,
Strong in His faithfulness, praise and sing.
Then, as He beckons thee, doe the nexte thynge."