A child kicks its legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are read more

A child kicks its legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, "Do it again"; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough... It is possible that God says every morning, "Do it again," to the sun; and every evening, "Do it again," to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike: it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.

Holy Saturday Commemoration of Jack Winslow, Missionary, Evangelist, 1974 The progress of these terrors is plainly shown us in read more

Holy Saturday Commemoration of Jack Winslow, Missionary, Evangelist, 1974 The progress of these terrors is plainly shown us in our Lord's agony in the garden, when the reality of this eternal death so broke in upon Him, so awakened and stirred itself in Him, as to force great drops of blood to sweat from His body... His agony was His entrance into the last, eternal terrors of the lost soul, into the real horrors of that dreadful, eternal death which man unredeemed must have died into when he left this world. We are therefore not to consider our Lord's death upon the Cross as only the death of that mortal body which was nailed to it, but we are to look upon Him with wounded hearts, as being fixed and fastened in the state of that twofold death, which was due to the fallen nature, out of which He could not come till He could say, "It is finished; Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.".

Such is our dependence upon God that we are obliged not only to do everything for His sake, but also read more

Such is our dependence upon God that we are obliged not only to do everything for His sake, but also to seek from Him the very power. This happy necessity of having recourse to Him in all our wants, instead of being grievous to us, should be our greatest consolation. What a happiness is it that we are allowed to speak to Him with confidence; to open our hearts and hold familiar conversation with him, by prayer! He Himself invites us to it.

Justice and Judgment are thy throne Yet wondrous is thy grace; While truth and mercy joined in one, read more

Justice and Judgment are thy throne Yet wondrous is thy grace; While truth and mercy joined in one, Invite us near thy face.

Only on recognising the true, may we lay down our task of searching further for truth; and only on being read more

Only on recognising the true, may we lay down our task of searching further for truth; and only on being satisfied that we have found the holy, are we justified in submitting to its guidance. The duty of following truth at all hazards is not altered, and it is only a false wisdom and prudence which shuns the search. The one chief reason why so much more may be revealed to babes than to the wise and prudent is still simply that, with less calculation and prejudice, they entirely abandon themselves to the leading of truth.

CHRISTMAS DAY The King of glory sends his Son, To make his entrance on this earth; Behold the midnight bright read more

CHRISTMAS DAY The King of glory sends his Son, To make his entrance on this earth; Behold the midnight bright as noon, And heav'nly hosts declare his birth! About the young Redeemer's head, What wonders, and what glories meet! An unknown star arose, and led The eastern sages to his feet. Simeon and Anna both conspire The infant Saviour to proclaim; Inward they felt the sacred fire, And bless'd the babe, and own'd his name. Let pagan hordes blaspheme aloud, And treat the holy child with scorn; Our souls adore th' eternal God Who condescended to be born.

Palm Sunday I had no God but these, The sacerdotal trees, And they uplifted me, "I hung upon a read more

Palm Sunday I had no God but these, The sacerdotal trees, And they uplifted me, "I hung upon a Tree." The sun and moon I saw, And reverential awe Subdued me day and night, "I am the perfect light." Within a lifeless stone -- All other gods unknown -- I sought Divinity, "The Corner-stone am I." For sacrificial feast I slaughtered man and beast, Red recompense to gain. "So I a Lamb was slain." "Yea, such My hungering Grace That whereso'er My face Is hidden, none may grope Beyond eternal Hope.".

Here is the Truth in a little creed, Enough for all the roads we go: In Love is all read more

Here is the Truth in a little creed, Enough for all the roads we go: In Love is all the law we need, In Christ is all the God we know.

Feast of Stephen, Deacon, First Martyr The Mother sits by the rough-hewn byre where her Baby smiles, and the secret read more

Feast of Stephen, Deacon, First Martyr The Mother sits by the rough-hewn byre where her Baby smiles, and the secret fire shines on her face. Her hand rests by an iron spike from the wood thrust high ("The nails in His hands!" ) An open chink in the rude, cold shed lets in the sky, and the Star that led shepherds and kings pours down its light: a silver shaft through the frosty night ("The spear in His side!") Her hands reach out, as to push away the cross-crowned hill and the bloody day; they touch a rough, unyielding wall: the stable side, of stone piled tall ("The stone -- rolled away!").