Thursday, May 12, 2016
"We are often the last to see how noble are our opportunities, to feel how inspiring the voices are that call us to high duties and productive sacrifice: and while we loiter on in the track of drowsy habit esteeming our lot in life common and profane, better hearts are looking on, burning within them to stand on the spot where we stand, to seize its hope, and be true to all its sacredness."
James Martineau; photo of Anna Nicole Smith.
I always thought the loss of Anna Nicole Smith was such a great tragedy. She came to mind when I read this post, but certainly each of us make so many poor choices and miss so much of what God has for us and the good things we were created for.
Monday, May 09, 2016
"A very little girl undertook to carry a
ton of coal, a shovelful at a time, from the sidewalk to a bin in the cellar.
An observer asked her, "Do you expect to get all that coal in with that
little shovel?" She paused for a moment as she looked at her little arms,
and considered her young age, and the enormity of the task and said, "Yes
sir, if I work long enough."
Trifling
efforts persisted in will accomplish more than spasmodic endeavors of greater
pretensions."
Saturday, May 07, 2016
Tannhauser and Venus
"The legend of Tannhauser is that he was riding through Hoesel Vale, on his way to Wartburg, when, as he was passing a cliff he saw a female figure of unearthly beauty, whom he recognized as Venus. She spoke to him enchanting words, strains of sweetest music meanwhile filling the air, a roseate light glowing around and charming nymphs scattering roses at her feet. He left his horse and followed the charmer, at the tread of whose feet flowers sprang up, till he entered a mountain cave and found himself in the palace of Venus. Here he passed seven years in revelry and debauchery, surrounded by all the pleasure and magnificence of the heathen goddess' home.
Finally he was filled with satiety and loathing, and longed for the blue sky and fresh breezes of the outside world. In vain he besought from Venus permission to depart. In his despondency he called upon the Virgin Mary, and a passage opened to him, and he stood once more upon the earth. He delighted in all the beauties of rural nature around him. Then the tones of the church bell fell upon his ear so long used to Bacchanal songs, and he hastened to make his confession. The priest was horror struck at the recital of his foul crimes, and refuse him absolution. He went from one to another to seek relief till he came to the Pope himself. The Pope listened to his confession of appalling guilt and earnest prayer for absolution. He thrust the penitent indignantly away, exclaiming, "Guilt such as thine can never, never, be remitted. Sooner shall this staff in my hand grow green and blossom, than that God should pardon thee."
Tannhauser, disheartened, decided to return
to the only asylum that would receive him. Three days after his departure the
Pope discovered that his staff had burst into leaves and flowers. He hastened to
send messengers after the penitent with his blessing. They could only discover
that a weary man had just entered the Hoesel Vale."
The different offices of patience
The offices of patience are as varied as the ills of this life. We have need of it with ourselves and with others; with those below and those above us, and with our own equals; with those who love us, and those who love us not; for the greatest things, and for the least; against sudden inroads of trouble, and under our daily burdens; disappointments as to the weather, or the breaking of the heart; in the weariness of the body, or the wearing of the soul; in our own failure of duty, or other's failure to us; in every-day wants, or in the aching of sickness, or the decay of age; in disappointment, bereavement, losses, injuries, reproaches; in heaviness of the heart, or its sickness amid delayed hopes." Dr. Pusey.
"We say of a man who has no
self-control," He is ruled by his passions;" they govern him, not he
them. Centuries ago an Arab wrote, "Passion is a tyrant which slays those
whom it governs."
It is like fire, which, once thoroughly kindled, can scarcely be
quenched; or like the torrent, which, when it is swollen, can no longer be
restrained with its banks. Call not him a prisoner who has been put in fetters
by his enemy, but rather him whose own passions overpowered him to
destruction." J. Johnson.
Friday, May 06, 2016
Discouragement and Hope
This is a great peace on discouragement and then hope.
"When the spirits are sinking, and the
press of the world arises in its strength; when the will trembles and faints
beneath its load, and the jubilant days of rejoicing dash by us and leave us at
a cruel distance; when the presence of more energetic and devoted souls fill us
with a sorrowing reverence, and humble us to the dust with self reproach; when
the silent shadow of lost opportunity sits cold upon us, and the memory of
misspent moments drips upon the sad heart, like rain-drops from the wintry boughs;
then, no peace of God, no tranquil order of life, no free and open affection
seems possible again: the rainbow of hope has fled from heaven, and the green
sod of the earth is elastic to our feet no more: the very universe seems
stricken with a rod of disappointment that has turned into lead; and God's will
either vanishes utterly from our view, or appears to us a hard task-master,
that lashes our worn out strength, and lays on us a burden greater than we can
bear.
But at other times, when
perhaps some affliction casts us down, or some call of difficult duty startles
us, we have clearness enough left to pray with a mighty and uplifted heart. God
seems to behold the silence of our surrender, and snatches us up into his
infinite deliverance. Our soul retreats within, and sees his light; it spreads
without, and feels his power. We can put our heel on toil and fear, and move over
them with the spring of resolution. A glory spreads over the clouds of sorrow,
which makes them majestic as the serene and open sky: they hang over us a
canopy of heavenly fire, the hiding-place of a thunder that terrifies us not.
The things that seemed so huge to the microscopic eye of worry, retreat into
infinite littleness before the sweep of a more faith filled vision. Whole
floods of trouble, peopled with terrors, become as dewdrops on the grass: and
the very earth itself, with its crowd of struggling interests, appears like a
calm orb floating in the deeps of heaven. Moments like these occur to all tried
and faithful minds; and they are the beacons and landmarks of our spiritual
way, alone remaining visible over the long reaches of our journey." James
Martineau.
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