Love accepts the trying things of life without asking for explanations. It trusts and is at rest.

To me there is no more tragic sight than the average missionary. …We have given so much, yet not the one thing that counts; we aspire so high, and fall so low; we suffer so much, but so seldom with Christ; we have done so much and so little will remain; we have known Christ in part, and have so effectively barricaded our hearts against His mighty love, which surely He must yearn to give His disciples above all people.

God bless you and utterly satisfy your heart...with Himself.

I don't wonder apostolic miracles have died. Apostolic living certainly has.

When I can see my face in it [the liquid gold in the crucible] then it is pure.

If when I am able to discover something which has baffled others, I forget Him who revealeth the deep and secret things, and knoweth what is in the darkness and showeth it to us; if I forget that it was He who granted that ray of light to His most unworthy servant, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

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