Little Hearts, Little Souls Give

Not Grace To Bar What Is Not Bliss, Nor Flight From All Distress, But This: The Grace That Orders Our Trouble And Pain, And Then, In The Darkness, Is There To Sustain.

God Has Made Us To Be Conduits Of His Grace. The Danger Is In Thinking The Conduit Should Be Lined With Gold. It Shouldn't. Copper Will Do.

Where Feelings For God Are Dead, Worship Is Dead.

You Get One Pass At Life. That’s All. Only One. And The Lasting Measure Of That Life Is Jesus Christ.

To See Him And Know Him And Be In His Presence Is The Soul’s Final Feast. Beyond This There Is No Quest. Words Fail. We Call It Pleasure, Joy, Delight. But These Are Weak Pointers To The Unspeakable Experience.