God can’t stand pious poses


A gentle response defuses anger, but a sharp tongue kindles a temper-fire.

Knowledge flows like spring water from the wise; fools are leaky faucets, dripping nonsense.

God doesn’t miss a thing – he’s alert to good and evil alike.

Kind words heal and help; cutting words wound and maim.

Moral dropouts won’t listen to their elders; welcoming correction is a mark of good sense.

The lives of God-loyal people flourish; a misspent life is soon bankrupt.

Perceptive words spread knowledge; fools are hollow – there’s nothing to them.

God can’t stand pious poses, but he delights in genuine prayers.

A life frittered away disgusts God; he loves those who run straight for the finish line.

It’s a school of hard knocks for those who leave God’s path, a dead-end street for those who hate God’s rules.

Even hell holds no secrets from God – do you think he can’t read human hearts?

 

Proverbs 15

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Feathers for Arrows


Two seeds lie before us—the one is warmed in the sun, the other falls from the sower’s hand into the cold dark earth, and there it lies buried beneath the soil. That seed which suns itself in the noontide beam may rejoice in the light in which it basks, but it is liable to be devoured by the bird; and certainly nought can come of it, however long it may linger above ground; but the other seed, hidden beneath the clods in a damp, dark sepulcher, soon swells, germinates, bursts its sheath, up-heaves the mould, springs up a green blade, buds, blossoms, becomes a flower, exhales perfume, and loads the wings of every wind. Better far for the seed to pass into the earth and die, than to lie in the sunshine and produce no fruit; and even thus for thee the future in its sorrow shall be as a sowing in a fertile land; tears shall moisten thee, grace shall increase within thee, and thou shalt grow up in the likeness of thy Lord unto perfection of holiness, to be such a flower of God’s own planting as even angels shall delight to gaze upon in the day of thy transplanting to celestial soil. Spurgeon