Father of spirits! We yield ourselves to Thee. We will be afraid of neither sorrow nor death in a world where many saintly souls have sanctified them by a divine patience, and amid a Providence wherein no evil thing can dwell. Clinging unto Thee, we shall not perish with the fashion of this world that passeth away. As sparks falling on the river, so shall the glories of our strength go out. But the graces of the holy soul shall be as the brightness of the firmament, and as the stars forever and ever. In Thee, O Lord, is our undying trust. Amen.
February 24
Be of good cheer, brave spirit; steadfastly serve that low whisper thou hast served; for know, God hath a select family of sons now scattered wide thro' earth, and each alone, who are thy spiritual kindred, and each one by constant service to that inward law, is weaving the sublime proportions of a true monarch's soul. Beauty and strength, the riches of a spotless memory, the eloquence of truth, the wisdom got by searching of a clear and loving eye that seeth as God seeth. These are their gifts, and time, who keeps God's word, brings on the day to seal the marriage of these minds with thine, thy everlasting lovers.
Ralph Waldo Emerson.
O Thou, who makest the outgoings of the morning and evening to rejoice, help us to welcome this new day as Thy gift, to take up its duties with courage, and to follow the light which Thou shalt give. Conscious of the meaning and purpose of life, undismayed by the failures of past days, and ever remembering that Thy strength is made perfect in human weakness, may we consecrate ourselves anew to the glad service of life, knowing that in so doing we enter into fellowship with all who have been workers together with Thee, and into increasing likeness of soul to Thy holy Son. May the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us, and may life become stronger and sweeter and richer, until at last we receive through grace the "well done!" of the Master. Amen.
February 25
There is no music in a rest, but there is the making of music in it. In our whole life melody, the music is broken off here and there by "rests," and we foolishly think we have come to the end of time. God sends a time of forced leisure—sickness, disappointed plans, frustrated efforts—and makes a sudden pause in the choral hymn of our lives, and we lament that our voices must be silent, and our part missing in the music which ever goes up to the ear of the Creator. How does the musician read the rest? See him beat time with unvarying count and catch up the next note true and steady, as if no breaking place had come in between. Not without design does God write the music of our lives. But be it ours to learn the time, and not be dismayed at the "rests." They are not to be slurred over, nor to be omitted, nor to destroy the melody, nor to change the key-note. If we look up, God Himself will beat the time for us. With the eye on Him we shall strike the next note full and clear.
John Ruskin.