Making the Most of Life

ceive-'tis

plead for

worsted, h

hanks return

would

aught

at God may b

ime t

ill t

than my wi

D A.

ncerns us in any way is matter of indifference to God. One writes: "Learn to entwine with your prayers the small cares, the trifling sorrows, the little wants of daily life. Whatever affects you,-be it a changed look, an altered tone, an unkind word, a wrong, a wound, a demand you cannot meet, a

God; but when we begin to speak to him, we find no language adequate for their expression. We try to tell God of our sorrow for sin, of our weakness and sinfulness, then of our desire to

them, is one of the most marvellous powers the Creator has bestowed upon us. Thus we communicate our feelings and desires the one

. No true orator ever finds sentences majestic enough to interpret the sentiments that burn in his soul. Deep, pure love is never able to put into words its most sacred feelings and

annot express. Your dearest friend may stand close to you when your mind is full of thoughts, but unless you speak or give some sign, he cannot know one of your thoughts. He may lay his ear close to

ast searched me

downsitting an

ndest my thou

out my path and

ainted with

not a word

, thou knowest

horizon of our being, but God sees it. There is not a heart-hunger, not a wish to be holier and better, not an aspiration to be more Christ-like, not a craving to live for God and be a blessing to others, not the faintest desire to be rid of sin's power, but God knows of it. St. Paul has a wonderful word on this subject: God, he says, "

ur heart's unutterable longings, when we sit at God's feet and loo

nds sit sometim

ds the sweet spe

ilence let u

ords to make G

ayer; upon it

th of heaven beat

child is very ill. It seems that it must die. You fall upon your knees before God to pray, but you do not know what to ask. Your breaking heart would quickly plead, "Lord, spare my precious child"; but you do not know that

you do not know what to ask. You can only say, "Lord, I cannot tell what is best; but thou knowest." What a comfort it

ad chosen

had not c

and truly th

lot, search h

me, fully

hich thou or

vulgarization of the grandeur of prayer, as though you asked for a handful of grass, when you might ask for a handful of emeralds; the other that you must always ask for earthly desires with absolute submission of your own will to Go

e blesses i

est good

ght that seem

his swe

save at sore cost. When we pray for more holiness, we do not know what we are asking for; at least we do not know the price

ugh it be

raise

rthly things we would love to keep. God loves us too much to grant our prayers for comfort and relief, even when we make them, if he can do it only at spir

re human hearts that never learn to sing the song of faith and peace and love, until they enter the darkness of trial. Would it be true love for these if God would he

canst

wry sorrow gi

ith and eagle

into the vineyard. "Would you like some grapes?" asked the proprietor, who was within. "I should be very thankful," replied the woman. "Then bring your basket." Quickly the basket was brought to the gate and passed in. The owner took it and was gone a long t

imes faith faints with waiting. But at last he comes, and our basket is heaped full with luscious blessings. He waited long that he might bring us a bett

hed, some preparation which is needed before the best an

the prayer your

heart thes

in to fail? Is

ll in vain thos

her hath not he

your desire som

though when you

tion at the F

uld not wait the

your heart to

passed since the

nswer you somet

t? Nay, do not

part is not y

hen first your p

finish what

ep the incense

will see somet

t? Faith canno

firmly plante

t storms she st

ore the loudes

potence has he

all be done-some