It is a solemn thing to find oneself drawn out in prayer which knows no relief till the soul it is burdened with is born. It is no less solemn afterwards, until Christ is formed in them.

If I slip into the place that can be filled by Christ alone, making myself the first necessity to a soul instead of leading it to fasten upon Him, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

Ours should be the love that asks not 'how little?' but, 'how much?' The love that delights to pour out everything upon the feet of our Beloved.

Can we follow the Savior far, who have no wound or scar?

Joy is not gush. Joy is not mere jolliness. Joy is perfect acquiescence ~ acceptance, rest ~ in God’s will, whatever comes.

The night I sailed for China, March 3, 1893, my life, on the human side, was broken, and it never was mended again. But He has been enough.

Oh, will you pray? Stop now and pray, lest desire turn to feeling and feeling evaporate.