There is hardly ever a complete silence in our soul. God is whispering to us well-nigh incessantly. Whenever the sounds read more

There is hardly ever a complete silence in our soul. God is whispering to us well-nigh incessantly. Whenever the sounds of the world die out in the soul, or sink low, then we hear these whisperings of God. He is always whispering to us, only we do not always hear, because of the noise, hurry, and distraction which life causes as it rushes on.

Feast of Aelred of Hexham, Abbot of Rievaulx, 1167 Commemoration of Benedict Biscop, Abbot of Wearmouth, Scholar, 689 read more

Feast of Aelred of Hexham, Abbot of Rievaulx, 1167 Commemoration of Benedict Biscop, Abbot of Wearmouth, Scholar, 689 I think I have never heard a sermon preached on the story of Mary and Martha that did not attempt, somehow, somewhere, to explain away its text. Mary's, of course, was the better part -- the Lord said so, and we must not precisely contradict Him. But we will be careful not to despise Martha. No doubt, He approved of her, too. We could not get on without her, and indeed, having paid lip-service to God's opinion, we must admit that we greatly prefer her, for Martha was doing a really feminine job, whereas Mary was just behaving like any other disciple; and that is a hard pill to swallow.

Feast of Aidan, Bishop of Lindisfarne, Missionary, 651 Commemoration of Cuthburga, Founding Abbess of Wimborne, c.725 Commemoration of John Bunyan, read more

Feast of Aidan, Bishop of Lindisfarne, Missionary, 651 Commemoration of Cuthburga, Founding Abbess of Wimborne, c.725 Commemoration of John Bunyan, Spiritual Writer, 1688 After this it was noised abroad that Mr. Valiant-for-truth was taken with a summons by the same post as the other, and had this for a token that the summons was true, "That his pitcher was broken at the fountain." Eccl. 12:6. When he understood it, he called for his friends, and told them of it. Then said he, I am going to my Father's; and though with great difficulty I have got hither, yet now I do not repent me of all the trouble I have been at to arrive where I am. My sword I give to him that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage, and my courage and skill to him that can get it. My marks and scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me that I have fought His battles who will now be my rewarder. When the day that he must go hence was come, many accompanied him to the river-side, into which as he went, he said, "Death, where is thy sting?" And as he went down deeper, he said, "Grave, where is thy victory?" 1 Cor. 15:55. So he passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side.

Feast of Alban, first Martyr of Britain, c.209 After all, we are told, our salvation has already been accomplished read more

Feast of Alban, first Martyr of Britain, c.209 After all, we are told, our salvation has already been accomplished by the grace of God... It was unkind to speak to men like this, for such a cheap offer could only leave them bewildered and tempt them from the way to which they had been called by Christ. Having laid hold on cheap grace, they were barred forever from the knowledge of costly grace. Deceived and weakened, men felt that they were strong now that they were in possession of this cheap grace -- whereas they had in fact lost the power to live the life of discipleship and obedience. The word of cheap grace has been the ruin of more Christians than any commandment of works.

Feast of Philip & James, Apostles I come in the little things, Saith the Lord: Not borne on read more

Feast of Philip & James, Apostles I come in the little things, Saith the Lord: Not borne on morning wings Of majesty, but I have set My Feet Amidst the delicate and bladed wheat That springs triumphant in the furrowed sod. There do I dwell, in weakness and in power; Not broken or divided, saith our God! In your strait garden plot I come to flowers About your porch My Vine, Meek, fruitful, doth entwine; Waits, at the threshold, Love's appointed hour. I come in the little things, Saith the Lord: Yea! on the glancing wings Of eager birds, the softly pattering feet Of furred and gentle beasts, I come to meet Your hear and wayward heart. In brown bright eyes That peep from out the brake, I stand confest. On every nest Where feathery Patience is content to brood And leaves her pleasure for the high emprize Of motherhood -- There doth My Godhead rest. I come in the little things, Saith the Lord: My starry wings I do forsake, Love's highway of humility to take: Meekly I fit my stature to your need. In beggar's part About your gates I shall not cease to plead -- As man, to speak with man -- Till by such art I shall achieve My Immemorial Plan, Pass the low lintel of the human heart.

Let no man think to kill sin with few, easy, or gentle strokes. He who hath once smitten a serpent, read more

Let no man think to kill sin with few, easy, or gentle strokes. He who hath once smitten a serpent, if he follow not on his blow until he be slain, may repent that ever he began the quarrel. And so will he who undertakes to deal with sin, and pursues it not constantly to the death.

Feast of Nicholas, Bishop of Myra, c.326 If one could talk absolutely humanly about Christ, one would read more

Feast of Nicholas, Bishop of Myra, c.326 If one could talk absolutely humanly about Christ, one would have to say that the words: "my God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" are impatient and untrue. They can only be true if God says them, and consequently also when the God-Man says them. And indeed since it is true, it is the very limit of suffering.

Feast of the Venerable Bede, Priest, Monk of Jarrow, Historian 735 Commemoration of Aldhelm, Abbot of Mamsbury, Bishop of Sherborne, read more

Feast of the Venerable Bede, Priest, Monk of Jarrow, Historian 735 Commemoration of Aldhelm, Abbot of Mamsbury, Bishop of Sherborne, 709 If you here stop and ask yourselves why you are not as pious as the primitive Christians were, your own heart will tell you that it is neither through ignorance nor through inability, but purely because you never thoroughly intended it.

Feast of Philip & James, Apostles Come Love, come Lord, and that long day For which I languish, come away. read more

Feast of Philip & James, Apostles Come Love, come Lord, and that long day For which I languish, come away. When this dry soul those eyes shall see And drink the unseal'd source of Thee, When glory's sun faith's shades shall chase, Then for Thy veil give me Thy face.