Preacher brethren, this is the time to blush that we have no shame, the time to weep for our lack of tears, the time to bend low that we have lost the humble touch of servants, the time to groan that we have no burden, the time to be angry with ourselves that we have no anger over the devil’s monopoly in this “end time” hour, the time to chastise ourselves that the world can so easily get along with us and not attempt to chastise us.

Pentecost meant pain, yet we have so much pleasure. Pentecost meant burden, yet we love ease. Pentecost meant prison, yet most of us would do anything rather than, for Christ’s dear sake, get into prison.

Leonard Ravenhill (Why Revival Tarries, 67)

Trying to end the year right.