Lord God...use Me As Your Instrument --

Here Again You Confuse And Mix Everything Up In Your Usual Way.

God Delights In Our Temptations And Yet Hates Them. He Delights In Them When They Drive Us To Prayer; He Hates Them When They Drive Us To Despair.

When I Am Assailed With Heavy Tribulations, I Rush Out Among My Pigs Rather Than Remain Alone By Myself. The Human Heart Is Like A Millstone In A Mill: When You Put Wheat Under It, It Turns And Grinds And Bruises The Wheat To Flour; If You Put No Wheat, It Still Grinds On, But Then 'tis Itself It Grinds And Wears Away. So The Human Heart, Unless It Be Occupied With Some Employment, Leaves Space For The Devil, Who Wriggles Himself In And Brings With Him A Whole Host Of Evil Thoughts, Temptations, And Tribulations, Which Grind Out The Heart.

For It Is A Horrible Blasphemy To Imagine That There Is Any Work By Which You Should Presume To Pacify God, Since You See That There Is Nothing Which Is Able To Pacify Him But This Inestimable Price, Even The Death And The Blood Of The Son Of God, One Drop Of Which Is More Precious Than The Whole World.

God Has Surely Promised His Grace To The Humbled: That Is, To Those Who Mourn Over And Despair Of Themselves. But A Man Cannot Be Thoroughly Humbled Till He Realizes That His Salvation Is Utterly Beyond His Own Powers, Counsels, Efforts, Will And Works, And Depends Absolutely On The Will, Counsel, Pleasure And Work Of Another -- God Alone.