Every fact that the disciples stated was right; but the inferences they drew from those facts were wrong. Anything that savours of dejection spiritually is always wrong. If depression and oppression visit me, I am to blame; God is not, nor is anyone else.

Dejection springs from one of two sources - I have either satisfied a lust or I have not. Lust means - I must have it at once. Spiritual lust makes me demand an answer from God, instead of seeking God Who gives the answer.

What have I been trusting God would do? And to-day - the immediate present - is the third day, and He has not done it; therefore I imagine I am justified in being dejected and in blaming God.

Whenever the insistence is on the point that God answers prayer, we are off the track. The meaning of prayer is that we get hold of God, not of the answer.

It is impossible to be well physically and to be dejected. Dejection is a sign of sickness, and the same thing is true spiritually. Dejection spiritually is wrong, and we are always to blame for it.

We look for visions from heaven, for earthquakes and thunders of God's power (the fact that we are dejected proves that we do), and we never dream that all the time God is in the commonplace things and people around us.

If we will do the duty that lies nearest, we shall see Him. One of the most amazing revelations of God comes when we learn that it is in the commonplace things that the Deity of Jesus Christ is realized.

I have always been so sorry that the two disciples walking with Jesus on the road to Emmaus did not say to Him, “We still hope” instead of “We had hoped.” The situation is very sad, because in their minds it is over.

Oh, if only they had said, “Everything has come against our hope, and it looks as if our trust were in vain. Yet we will not give up, because we believe we will see Him again.” Instead, they walked by His side, declaring their shattered faith. Jesus had to say to them, “How foolish you are, and how slow to believe!” (Luke 24:25).

Are we not in danger of having these same words said to us? We can afford to lose every possession we have, except our faith in the God of truth and love. May we never express our faith, as these disciples did, in the past tense—“We had hoped.” Yet may we always say, “I have hope.” C RUMBS

The soft, sweet summer was warm and glowing, Bright were the blossoms on every bough: I trusted Him when the roses were blooming; I trust Him now . . . .

Small was my faith should it weakly falter Now that the roses have ceased to blow; Frail was the trust that now should alter, Doubting His love when storm clouds grow.

THE SONG OF A BIRD IN A WINTER STORM