“Let us not be weary in well-doing” (Gal. vi. 9).
If Paul could only know the consolation and hope that he has ministered to
the countless generations who have marched along the pathway from the
cross to the Kingdom above, he would be willing to go through a thousand
lives and a thousand deaths such as he endured for the blessing that has
followed since his noble head rolled in the dust by the Ostian gate of
Rome.
And if the least of us could only anticipate the eternal issues that will
probably spring from the humblest services of faith, we should only count
our sacrifices and labors unspeakable heritages of honor and opportunity,
and would cease to speak of trials and sacrifices made for God.
The smallest grain of faith is a deathless and incorruptible germ, which
will yet plant the heavens and cover the earth with harvests of
imperishable glory. Lift up your head, beloved, the horizon is wider than
the little circle that you can see. We are living, we are suffering, we
are laboring, we are trusting, for the ages yet to come!