God is able to make all grace abound toward you: that ye always having all sufficiency in all things may abound to every good work.—2 Corinthians 9:8.
O love,Thy sovereign aid impart
To save me from low-thoughted care;
Chase this self-will through all my heart,
Through all its latent mazes there;
Make me Thy duteous child, that I
Ceaseless may “Abba, Father” cry.
The grace which keeps me from falling one inch further, irrecoverably, and is not worn out by my provocations in this wilderness, is simply more visibly alive and active in my most certain experiences, more prompt, more steady, than I have any experience of among material things and persons. Everything material is simply feeble; and everything personal is shadowy, as compared with this personality under whose shadow I am allowed to dwell. And all this is the more extraordinary because of the hurry, hotness, dry ness, aridity of the life I am obliged to live in London, if correspondence, interviews, letters, are to be kept down and dealt with at all. The want of time to read and think, the shortness and distractions of prayer, seem to threaten one’s very existence as a conscious child of God. And yet He is on my right hand and I know it.
Edward White Benson.