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

There is always something to be happy about if we look for it: ‘Two men looked through prison bars, The one saw mud, the other stars.'

If I am inconsiderate about the comfort of others, or their feelings, or even of their little weaknesses; if I am careless about their little hurts and miss opportunities to smooth their way; if I make the sweet running of household wheels more difficult to accomplish, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If Thy dear home be fuller, Lord, For that a little emptier. My house on earth, what rich rewards. That guerdon were.

When I consider the cross of Christ, how can anything that I do be called sacrifice?

Nothing is worth doing at all, nothing is worth writing, which does not do something which will last.

If you are ever inclined to pray for a missionary, do it at once, where ever you are. Perhaps he may be in great peril at that moment.