The hymns they sang were beautiful

  • MARCH 25, 1836.-The New Year and my birthday have come and gone fake oakleys, and this is the first moment I could find for writing down all that has happened.

    The day after my last date I was full of serious, earnest thoughts, of new desires to live, without one reserve, for God. I was smarting under the remembrance of my folly at Mrs. Embury's, and with a sense of vague disappointment and discomfort, and had to fly closer than ever to Him. In the evening I thought I would go to the usual weekly service. It is true I don't like prayer-meetings, and that is a bad sign, I am afraid. But I am determined to go where good people go, and see if I can't learn to like what they like.

    Mother went with me, of course.

    What was my surprise to find that Dr. E. was to preside! I had no idea that he was that sort of a man.

    The hymns they sang were beautiful, and did me good replica oakleys. So was his prayer. If all prayers were like that, I am sure I should like evening meetings as much as I now dislike them. He so evidently spoke to God in it, and as if he were used to such speaking.

    He then made a little address on the ministry of disappointments, as he called it. He spoke so cheerfully and hopefully that I began to see almost for the first time God's reason for the petty trials and crosses that help to make up every day of one's life. He said there were few who were not constantly disappointed with themselves, with their slow progress, their childishness and weakness; disappointed with their friends who, strangely enough, were never quite perfect enough, and disappointed with the world, which was always promising so much and giving so little. Then he urged to a wise and patient consent to this discipline, which, if rightly used, would help to temper and strengthen the soul against the day of sorrow and bereavement. But I am not doing him justice in this meagre report; there was something almost heavenly in his expression which words cannot describe.

    Coming out I heard some one ask replica oakley sunglasses, "Who was that young clergyman?" and the answer, "Oh, that is only a doctor!"

    Well! the next week I went again

    , with long, soft eye-lashes, and her complexion was as pure as a baby's. Yet she was not one of your doll beauties; her face expressed both feeling and character. They sang together from the same book, though I offered her a share of mine. Of course, when people do that it can mean but one thing.