agrant golden glory.

See this bit of gorse-bush. The whole year round the thorn has been
hardening and sharpening. Spring comes: the thorn does not drop off,
and it does not soften; there it is, as uncompromising as ever; but
half-way up appear two brown furry balls, mere specks at first, that
break at last--straight out of last year's thorn--into a blaze of
fragrant golden glory.

"Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but
grievous; nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of
righteousness unto them that are exercised thereby." Never mind if
the trouble shews no sign of giving way: it is just when it seems
most hopelessly unyielding, holding on through the spring days, alive
and strong, it is then that the tiny buds appear that soon will
clothe it with glory. Take the very hardest thing in your life--the
place of difficulty, outward or inward, and expect God to triumph
gloriously in that very spot. Just there He can bring your soul into
blossom!

* * * * * * * *

And so the spring-time expands, till it passes once more into the
shadow of Calvary. For the blessedness of receiving is not all that
God has for us: a new world lies beyond--a world of giving: a giving
first to God in surrender, then to man in sacrifice.

A flower that stops short at its flowering misses its purpose. We
were created for more than our own spiritual development;
reproduction, not mere development, is the goal of matured
being--reproduction in other lives. There is a tendency in some
characters, running parallel to the high cultivation that spends its
whole energy on the production of bloom at the expense of seed. The
flowers that are bent on perfecting themselves, by becoming double,
end in barrenness, and a like barrenness comes to the soul whose
interests are all concentrated upon its own spiritual well-being,
heedless of the needs around. The true, ideal flower is the one that
uses its gifts as means to an end; the brightness and sweetness are
not for its own glory; they are but to attract the bees and
butterflies that will fertilise and make it fruitful. All may go when
the work is done--"it is more blessed to give than to receive."

And we ourselves are "saved to save"--we are made to give--to let
everything go if only we may have more to give. The pebble takes in
all the rays of light that fall on it, but the diamond flashes them
out again: every little facet is a means, not simply of drinking more