The night is far spent, the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light—Rom. 13: 12.
The works of darkness would be any works whatever that would not stand the fullest investigation, that would not stand approval in the light of the new dispensation, if it were fully ushered in. Let us remember that we belong to the new dispensation, and not to the old, and should, therefore, live in accordance with our citizenship and our responsibility toward the Prince of Light and in opposition to the prince of darkness, his works and his ways.
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The night of Satan's dark reign over the earth is almost ended. The day of Christ's joyous reign is at hand. As God's people we should cast off any and every work or quality imbued with the Adversary's spirit, and arm ourselves with every truth and grace of the Lord's Spirit. Thus our citizenship in the Kingdom of God will be properly attested, and our patriotism will be splendidly manifested, and that to the Divine pleasing.
Parallel passages: Gen. 6: 5, 11; 8: 21; Psa. 51: 5; Prov. 20: 9; Eccles. 7: 20; Isa. 1: 5, 6; 51: 1; 64: 6; Jer. 17: 9; Matt. 7: 17; 15: 19; John 3: 19; Rom. 1: 21-32; 3: 9-19, 23; 6: 6, 19, 20; Gal. 5: 17, 19-21; Eph. 4: 17-22; 5: 11; Col. 3: 8; Eph. 6: 12-18; 1Thes. 5: 8; John 3: 21; 15: 2-8; 2Cor. 9: 8; Gal. 6: 4, 7-9.
Questions: Have I this week put off evil and put on good? How? What helped or hindered? With what results?
THE FIELD OF BATTLE
To grasp the two-edged sword, and forward rush
upon the foe,
To hear the Captain's cry, to see the flash of answer-
To feel the throbbing hearts of battling comrades in
That rapturous inspiration know, of warring for the
The holy joy of following Him who points and
leads the way!
Ah! yes, 'tis glorious thus to fight the goodly fight,
Methinks, beyond the firing line, beneath those snowy
A fiercer conflict rages night and day, where trembling
Wan lips and fever-lighted eyes do battle with a host
Of deadly foes,—grim giants, Doubt and Disappoint-
Despair,—before whose fiery darts the bravest well
They also hear the call, and hoarsely cry, "Lord,
here am I!"
They strive to reach their swords, to struggle to their
feet, but back
In helpless agony of weakness on their pallets fall,
With brain afire, and reason tottering on its throne,
Of anguish flow! Sometimes the noise of battle
The range of those poor, straining ears, and then the
Stalks through the room, and lays an icy hand upon
The awful thought, Our captain hath forsaken and
Our comrades forge ahead, they leave us here alone
But no! the Lord of Battles is most merciful, He
A swift-winged messenger: "Yea, though a mother
Her sucking child, yet will I not forget!" Then,
like the calm
That cometh after storm, sweet peace and quiet reign
Those troubled breasts, and so He giveth His beloved
Ah! then, true-hearted comrades in the forefront of
Remember that the wounded to God's army still
And send betimes to them a white-winged messenger
Oh, give Love's roses now, nor keep them for the
(A single flower is sweeter far than thousands by
Take time to speak a tender word, to shed a pitying
Or breathe, at least, a prayer throughout the watches
of the night,
And thus prove more than conquerors through the
power of deathless love!
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