August 31
One Thing is Needful
In the Hour of Silence"Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God is one Lord."—Deuteronomy 6:4.
THE Lord my God is one Lord. He must reign without substitute, without rival, without peer. I must love Him with all my heart, all my soul, all my might.
Sometimes my earthly work grows too absorbing. I am devoted to it. I am proud of my skill and proficiency. I toil with brain and heart and hands. Nowhere, I am resolved, shall there be a more diligent and faithful craftsman than I. Ah, I must remind myself that my Lord should be enthroned above my work.
Sometimes the literature and learning of the world are very enticing. Books are sweet and good, and the master-souls speak to me from their pages. But they must never have the time or the thought which belongs to my King. The books, says St. Paul, but especially the Parchments—"my oldest friends, the precious rolls of Isaiah and the Psalms and the Lesser Prophets, the messages of my Master on high."
Sometimes my companionship and love fill all my horizon. Dear and priceless is the comrade of my heart—Animæ dimidium meæ. "My poor Romola," mourned Bernardo, "I have only to die, but thou hast to live, and I shall not be there to help thee." "Yes," replied Romola, "you will help me—always—because I shall remember you." But Christ must be dearer still, must stand higher, must command a fuller allegiance.
Sometimes my sins have a bewildering dazzle and a subtle charm. But from all follies that please me I must turn to Him—my Beloved, my Saviour, my Sovereign. To them let there be "For ever farewell"; to Him, My Lord and my God.
Jesus, unite my heart to fear Thy name.
September.
HARVEST.
BUT see how golden-bright, In wave on wave of light, Earth's harvest fields now rival heavenly skies; For out of gold and red Is made our daily bread: The world's an altar set for sacrifice.
Oh, think, what golden sea, What rose and white shall be— Gold heads innumerable and each one crowned,— When He, the Lord of men, Hath reaped His golden grain, And all His Heaven's become a harvest ground.
KATHARINE TYNAN HINKSON.