Even the sparrow finds a home and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, at your altars, O LORD of Hosts, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in your house, ever singing your praise.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Spurgeon on War
When thou sleepest, think that thou art resting on the battlefield; when thou walkest, suspect an ambush in every hedge. —C.H. Spurgeon