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

Give me the Love that leads the way The Faith that nothing can dismay The Hope no disappointments tire The Passion that'll burn like fire Let me not sink to be a clod Make me Thy fuel, Flame of God

Thou art the Lord who slept upon the pillow, Thou art the Lord who soothed the furious sea, What matters beating wind and tossing billow If only we are in the boat with Thee? Hold us quiet through the age-long minute While Thou art silent and the wind is shrill : Can the boat sink while Thou, dear Lord, are in it; Can the heart faint that waiteth on Thy will?

God Hold us to that which drew us first, when the Cross was the attraction, and we wanted nothing else.

One can't save and then pitchfork souls into heaven... Souls are more or less securely fastened to bodies... And as you can't get the souls out and deal with them separately, you have to take them both together.

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

One must as willingly be nothing, as something.