George MacDonald

Feast of Commemoration of Helena, Protector of the Faith, 330 The kingdom of heaven is not come even when read more

Feast of Commemoration of Helena, Protector of the Faith, 330 The kingdom of heaven is not come even when God's will is our law; it is fully come when God's will is our will.

EPIPHANY Do you think you love your children better than He who made them? Is not your love what read more

EPIPHANY Do you think you love your children better than He who made them? Is not your love what it is because He put it into your heart first? Have you not often been cross with them? Sometimes unjust to them? Whence came the returning love that rose from unknown depths in your being, and swept away the anger and the injustice? You did not create that love. Probably you were not good enough to send for it by prayer. But it came. God sent it. He makes you love your children.

God has not cared that we should anywhere have assurance of His very words; and that not merely, perhaps, because read more

God has not cared that we should anywhere have assurance of His very words; and that not merely, perhaps, because of the tendency in His children to word-worship, false logic, and corruption of the truth, but because He would not have them oppressed by words, seeing that words, being human, and therefore but partially capable, could not absolutely contain or express what the Lord meant, and that even He must depend for being understood upon the spirit of His disciple. Seeing that it could not give life, the letter should not be throned with power to kill.

O Christ, my life, possess me utterly. Take me and make a little Christ of me. If I am anything read more

O Christ, my life, possess me utterly. Take me and make a little Christ of me. If I am anything but thy father's son, 'Tis something not yet from the darkness won. Oh, give me light to live with open eyes. Oh, give me life to hope above all skies.

The west is broken into bars
Of orange, gold, and gray;
Gone is the sun, come are read more

The west is broken into bars
Of orange, gold, and gray;
Gone is the sun, come are the stars,
And night infolds the day.