The Kiss

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  “Ryabovitch pulled the bed-clothes over his head, curled himself up in bed, and tried to gather together the floating images in his mind and to combine them into one whole. But nothing came of it. He soon fell asleep, and his last thought was that someone had caressed him and made him happy—that something extraordinary, foolish, but joyful and delightful, had come into his life. The thought did not leave him even in his sleep. When he woke up the sensations of oil on his neck and the chill of peppermint about his lips had gone, but joy flooded his heart just as the day before.” The Kiss By Anton Chekhov (1860–1904)

Making life a prayer

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“Lord, help me to glorify thee;
I am poor, help me to glorify thee by contentment;
I am sick, help me to give thee honour by patience;
I have talents, help me to extol thee by spending them for thee;
I have time, Lord, help me to redeem it, that I may serve thee;
I have a heart to feel, Lord, let that heart feel no love but thine, and glow with no flame but affection for thee;
I have a head to think, Lord, help me to think of thee and for thee;
Thou hast put me in this world for something, Lord, show me what that is, and help me to work out my life-purpose: I cannot do much, but as the widow put in her two mites, which were all her living, so, Lord, I cast my time and eternity too into thy treasury; I am all thine; take me, and enable me to glorify thee now, in all that I say, in all that I do, and with all that I have.”

(Spurgeon, Morning and Evening Feb. 15)

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