Christ chargeth me to believe His daylight at midnight.
The great Master Gardener, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, in a wonderful providence, with his own hand, planted me here, where by his grace, in this part of his vineyard, I grow; and here I will abide till the great Master of the vineyard think fit to transplant me.
If so be that freewill were our tutor, and we had our heaven in our own keeping, then we would lose all. But because we have Christ for our tutor, and He has our heaven in His hand, therefore the covenant it must be perpetual.
Think it not hard if you get not your will, nor your delights in this life; God will have you to rejoice in nothing but himself.
Consider, it is impossible that your idol sins and you can go to heaven together; and that those who will not part with these do not indeed love Christ at the bottom, but only in word and show, which will not do the business.
In our fluctuations of feelings, it is well to remember that Jesus admits no change in His affections; your heart is not the compass Jesus saileth by.
When I look to my guiltiness, I see that my salvation is one of our Saviour’s greatest miracles, either in heaven or earth.
Why should I tremble at the plough of my Lord, that maketh deep furrows on my soul? I know He is no idle husbandman, He purposeth a crop.
How soon would faith freeze without a cross!
Set no time to the Lord the creator of time, for His time is always best.
Grace grows best in winter.
Our little time of suffering is not worthy of our first night’s welcome home to Heaven.
The bloom fell off my branches and joy did cast off its flower.
When the supreme magistrate will not execute the judgment of the Lord, those who made him supreme magistrate, under God, who have under God, sovereighn liberty to dispose of crowns and kingdoms, are to execute the judgment of the Lord, when wicked men make the law of God of none effect.
The secret formula of the saints: When I am in the cellar of affliction, I look for the Lord’s choicest wines.
My Lord Jesus has fully recompensed my sadness with his joys, my losses with his own presence. I find it a sweet and rich thing to exchange my sorrows with Christ’s joys, my afflictions with that sweet peace I have with himself.
After winter comes the summer. After night comes the dawn. And after every storm, there comes clear, open skies.
The cross of Christ is the sweetest burden that I ever bore; it is such a burden as wings are to a bird, or sails to a ship, to carry me forward to my harbor.
There is no sweeter fellowship with Christ than to bring our wounds and our sores to him.
The weightiest end of the cross of Christ that is laid upon you, lieth upon your strong Savior.