The weightiest end of the cross of Christ that is laid upon you, lieth upon your strong Savior.

Why should I tremble at the plough of my Lord, that maketh deep furrows on my soul? I know He is no idle husbandman, He purposeth a crop.

They lose nothing who gain Christ.

Grace grows best in winter.

After winter comes the summer. After night comes the dawn. And after every storm, there comes clear, open skies.

Every day we may see some new thing in Christ. His love hath neither brim nor bottom.

In our fluctuations of feelings, it is well to remember that Jesus admits no change in His affections; your heart is not the compass Jesus saileth by.