I Live No More, But Christ Liveth

Christ's Enemies Are But Breaking Their Own Heads In Pieces, Upon The Rock Laid In Zion; And The Stone Is Not Removed Out Of Its Place. Faith Hath Cause To Take Courage From Our Very Afflictions; The Devil Is But A Whetstone To Sharpen The Faith And Patience Of The Saints. I Know That He But Heweth And Polisheth Stones, All This Time, For The New Jerusalem.

He Who Duly Esteemeth Christ, Is A Noble Bidder, And So A Noble And Liberal Buyer.

Let Your Children Be As So Many Flowers, Borrowed From God. If The Flowers Die Or Wither, Thank God For A Summer Loan Of Them.

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.

You Will Not Get To Steal Quietly Into Heaven, Into Christ's Company, Without A Conflict And A Cross. I Find Crosses To Be Christ's Carved Work That He Marks Out For Us And That With Crosses He Portraits Us To His Own Image, Cutting Away Pieces Of Our Ill And Corruption. Lord Cut - Lord Carve - Lord Wound - Lord Do Anything That May Perfect Thy Father's Image In Us And Make Us Ready For Glory.