Every Drop Of Rain Hits Its Appointed

What Will It Profit A Man If He Gains His Cause And Silences His Adversary If At The Same Time He Loses That Humble, Tender Frame Of Spirit In Which The Lord Delights, And To Which The Promise Of His Presence Is Made?

If Two Angels Were To Receive At The Same Moment A Commission From God, One To Go Down And Rule Earth’s Grandest Empire, The Other To Go And Sweep The Streets Of Its Meanest Village, It Would Be A Matter Of Entire Indifference To Each Which Service Fell To His Lot, The Post Of Ruler Or The Post Of Scavenger; For The Joy Of The Angels Lies Only In Obedience To God’s Will, And With Equal Joy They Would Lift A Lazarus In His Rags To Abraham’s Bosom, Or Be A Chariot Of Fire To Carry An Elijah Home.

We Can Easily Manage If We Will Only Take, Each Day, The Burden Appointed To It. But The Load Will Be Too Heavy For Us If We Carry Yesterday's Burden Over Again Today, And Then Add The Burden Of The Morrow Before We Are Required To Bear It.

God Works Powerfully, But For The Most Part Gently And Gradually.

Time, By Moments, Steals Away, First The Hour, And Then The Day; Small The Daily Loss Appears, Yet It Soon Amounts To Years