Great thoughts of your sin alone will drive you to despair; but great thoughts of Christ will pilot you into the haven of peace.

Jesus is in the tempest. His love wraps the night about itself as a mantle, but to the eye of faith the sable robe is scarce a disguise.

Even your little sorrows you may roll upon God, for He counteth the hairs of your head.

Cast the burden of the present along with the sin of the past and the fear of the future upon the Lord.

If I can bring Him nothing but my tears, He will put them with His own tears in His own bottle for He once wept; if I can bring Christ nothing but my groans and sighs, He will accept these as an acceptable sacrifice, for He once was broken in heart, and sighed heavily in spirit.

Winter in the soul is by no means a comfortable season: but there is this comfort, namely, that the Lord makes it.