The great Master Gardener, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, in a wonderful providence, with his own hand, planted me here, whereby his grace, in this part of his vineyard, I grow; and here I will abide till the great Master of the vineyard think fit to transplant me.
No pen, no words, no image can express to you the loveliness of my only, only Lord Jesus.
Build your nest in no tree here for the Lord of the forest has condemned the whole woods to be demolished.
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 purposed a crop.
Your heart is not the compass that God steers by.
When we shall come home and enter into the possession of our brother's fair kingdom, and when our heads shall find the weight of the eternal crown of glory, then we shall look back to pains and sufferings and then we will see life and sorrow to be less than one step or stride from a prison to glory. Our little inch of time-suffering is not worthy of our first night's welcome-home to heaven.
Be not cast down. If ye saw Him who is standing on the shore, holding out His arms to welcome you to land, ye would wade, not only through a sea of wrongs, but through hell itself to be with Him.
After winter comes the summer. After night comes the dawn. And after every storm, there comes clear, open skies.
I find my Lord Jesus cometh not in the precise way that I lay wait for Him. He hath a manner of His own. Oh, how high are His ways above my ways.
I have been benefited by praying for others; for by making an errand to God for them I have gotten something for myself.
Grace grows best in winter.
There is nothing that will make you a Christian indeed, but a taste of the sweetness of Christ.
[Samuel Rutherford]
✫❤•°*”˜˜”*°•❤✫...•°*”˜˜”*°•.❤✫...•°*”˜˜”*°•.❤✫
