It was when Job’s glory was fresh in him that his “bow was renewed” in his hand. Freshness and glory! And yet the brilliant music of these words is brought down to a minor strain by the little touch “it was”—not it is.

“All my [fresh] springs are in thee” (Psalm 87:7 KJV).

If our glory is to be fresh in us, it all depends upon what the glory in us is! There is only one unfailing source— Christ Himself! He is “in you, the hope of glory” (Colossians 1:27) if you have admitted Him; and He is your glory. Then you may sing, “My glory is fresh in me.”

Jesus Christ is always fresh!

And so is the oil with which He anoints us. “I shall be anointed with fresh oil” (Psalm 92:10 KJV). Fresh oil of joy! Fresh oil of consecration! Fresh oil upon the sacrifice as we offer to God continually “the fruit of lips that openly profess his name” (Hebrews 13:15).

My heart is parched by unbelief,

My spirit sere from inward strife;

The heavens above are turned to brass,

Arid and fruitless is my life.

Then falls Thy rain, O Holy One;

Fresh is the earth, and young once more;

Then falls Thy Spirit on my heart;

My life is green; the drought is o’er!

“DROUGHT” BY BETTY BRUECHER T

A desert road? when the Christian has ever at his command Fresh springs! Fresh oil! Fresh glory!

It is a great secret I tell you today , nay, I can give you—if you will take it from Him, not from me—a secret which has been to me, oh, so wonderful!

Many years ago I came to Him burdened with guilt and fear; I took that simple secret, and it took away my fear and sin. Years passed on, and I found sin overcame me, and my temptations were too strong for me. I came to Him a second time, and He whispered to me, “Christ in you.” And I have had victory , rest and sweet blessing ever since . . .

I look back with unutterable gratitude to the lonely and sorrowful night, when, mistaken in many things, and imperfect in all, and not knowing but that it would be death in the most literal sense before the morning light, my heart’ s first full consecration was made, and, with unreserved surrender , I first could say , Jesus, I my cr oss have taken, All to leave and follow Thee: Destitute, despised, forsaken, Thou fr om hence my all shall be.

Never , perhaps, has my heart known such a thrill of joy as when, the following Sunday morning, I gave out these lines, and sang them with all my heart. And, if God has been pleased to use me in any fuller measure, it has been because of that hour. And it will be still, in the measu re in which that hour is made the keynote of a consecrated, crucified, and Christ-devoted life.

This experience of Christ our Sanctifier marks a definite and distinct crisis in the history of a soul. We do not grow into it, but we cross a definite line of demarcation, as clear as when the hosts of Joshua crossed the Jordan and were over in the Promised Land, and set up a great heap of stones, so that they never could for get that crisis hour . A. B. S IMPSON

The greatest thing that any of us can do is not to live for Christ but to live Christ.

What is holy living? It is Christ-life.

It is not to be Christians, but Christ-ones.

It is not to try to do or be some great thing but simply to have Him and let Him live His own life in us; abiding in Him and He in us, and letting Him reflect His own graces, His own faith, His own consecration, His own love, His own patience, His own gentleness, His own words in us, while we “declare the praises of him who called [us] out of darkness into his wonderful light” (1 Peter 2:9).

This is at once the sublimest and the simplest life that it is possible to live.

It is a higher standard than human perfection, and yet it is possible for a poor, sinful, imperfect man to realize it through the perfect Christ who comes to live within us.

God help us so to live, and thus to make real to those around us, the simplicity , the beauty , the glory , and the power of the Christ life.

“I cannot tell,” said the humble shepherd’s wife, “what sermon it was that led me into a life of victory.

I cannot even explain the creed or the catechism, but I know that something has changed me entirely.

Last summer John and I washed the sheep in yonder stream.

I cannot tell you where the water went, but I can show you the clean white fleece of the sheep.

And so I may forget the doctrine, but I have its blessed fruit in my heart and life.”

Two of us were chatting with Sadhu Sundar Singh in my office one morning.

The Sadhu had just arrived in London.

We knew little concerning him, and my friend was anxious to find out if he knew the doctrine of that “perfect love” of which Saint John speaks.

“Does he understand?” asked my friend, turning to me.

The Sadhu smiled and quietly said: “When I throw a stone at the fruit tree, the fruit tree throws no stone back, but gives me fruit.

Is it that?” Then he went on to ask: “Should not we, who love the Lord Jesus, be like sandalwood, which imparts its fragrance to the ax which cuts it?”

We walk by faith, not by sight.—We love him, because he first loved us.—And we have known and believed the love that God hath to us. God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him.—In whom ye trusted, after that ye heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation: in whom also after that ye believed, ye were sealed with that holy Spirit of promise.—God would make known what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles; which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.

If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen?

Jesus saith unto him, Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.—Blessed are all they that put their trust in him.