More than conquerors through Him who loved us,
Read the promise o'er and o'er;
Not almost or very nearly,
But conquerors and more.
When the world to sin would lure me
Is there victory for me?
Can I stand against the pressure
And a conqueror truly be?
When the tempter like an angel
Garbs himself in robes of light,
Can I recognize his cunning
Be a victor in the fight?
And when passions rise within me,
Anger, jealousy and pride,
Can I still be more than conqueror
When by these I'm sorely tried?
By myself I'm weak and helpless,
And I'll fall in sore defeat,
As upon life's rugged highway
With temptation I shall meet.
But with CHRIST, oh blest assurance!
More than conqueror I shall be,
As I yield HIM full possession
And He lives and reigns in me.—Lillian M. Weeks.
A very practical man has confessed: "I have too much religion or too little; I must either give up what I have, or get more. I have too much religion to let me enjoy a worldly life, and too much worldliness to let me enjoy religion." He ended the dilemma triumphantly. He solved the problem by the whole-hearted acceptance of Christ as his living Lord. He put an end to divided loyalty, to doubtful obedience.—Dr. C. C. Albertson.
If you can smile when things go wrong,
And everybody wears a frown;
If you can hum a little song,
When castles have all fallen down.
If you can smile when friends are few,
Or this world's treasures pass away;
If you can to yourself be true;
And keep on smiling all the day.
If you can smile when death has come.
Snatched someone dear to you away;
If you can keep your lips still dumb,
When others cruel things will say.
If you will sometimes play the clown,
Though aching is your heart the while;
If you can turn temptation down,
And with it always wear a smile.
Then you have fought the battle: won
A conquest greater far than wealth.
What others would—you've really done,
You've won a victory over self.—Mary J. Theobald.
Learning to live only one day at a time is one of the most vital lessons of the Christian life. Yet how slow we often are to "learn it by heart"! A beautiful picture is given by William M. Strong in a recent bulletin of the Soldiers' and Gospel Mission of South America, of which he is founder and director: "Only those who have lived in a country where fruits and flowers are dependent on irrigation," writes Mr. Strong, "can fully comprehend the parable of God's provision which we see every hour of every day in the green fields that surround Coihueco during the summer months. Central Southern Chile is a land of great rains for about seven months in the year, and the balance of the time is one of almost utter dryness. It is in these dry months that we see one of the Lord's miracles at work. The snowcapped mountains in front of the house at Mission headquarters are the storehouses of one of God's inexhaustible blessings. That heavenly mechanism which controls all nature here lets down each day only just enough water to supply that day's need for the thirsty fields; so through these long, dry months of summer, every day in exactly the same quantity, comes flowing through the ditches that life-giving supply, without which an arid desert would form each year over the face of south-central Chile. What a striking picture this, to those of His children who have come to know Him well enough to walk with Him by faith, telling Him (and Him alone) of their need, and then seeing Him work with all His marvelous ways of supplying that need—many times from the most unexpected sources and, marvel of marvels, always quite enough!"—Sunday School Times.
Dr. Sewall, an old Methodist, when dying, shouted aloud the praises of God. His friends said, "Dr. Sewall, do not exert yourself; whisper, doctor, whisper."
"Let angels whisper," said he, "but the soul cleansed from sin by the Blood of Christ, a soul redeemed from death and hell, just on the threshold of eternal glory—oh, if I had a voice that would reach from pole to pole, I would proclaim it to all the world: Victory! Victory! through the Blood of the Lamb!"
Perhaps we the saints, who are still alive and well, ought to shout out the glorious Gospel more!—Christian Victory.
In the time of the Covenanters a group of children was ordered to be shot. A little girl of eight looked up into the face of one of the soldiers, and said: "Sodger man, will ye let me take my wee brither by the hand and die that way?" "Bonny Whigs ye are," cried Westerha, "to die without a prayer." "If it please ye, sir," said the little girl, "me and Alec canna pray, but we can sing 'The Lord's my shepherd.' My mother learned it us afore she gaed awa." Then all the bairns stood up, and from their lips rose the quavering strains, "The Lord's my shepherd; I'll not want." As they sang, trooper after trooper turned away. Man after man fell out, and the tears rained down their cheeks. At last even Westerha turned and rode away, for the victory was to the bairns through the singing of the twenty-third Psalm.—Christian Union Herald.