[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":4},["ShallowReactive",2],{"reading-0228":3},"FEBRUARY 28\r\nLet us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually (Heb. 13:15).\r\nA city missionary, stumbling through the dirt of a dark entry,\r\nheard a voice say, \"Who's there, Honey?\" Striking a match, he\r\ncaught a vision of earthly want and suffering, of saintly trust and\r\npeace, \"cut in ebony\"-calm, appealing eyes set amid the wrinkles of a pinched, black face that lay on a tattered bed. It was a bitter\r\nnight in February, and she had no fire, no fuel, no light She had\r\n\r\nhad no supper, no dinner, no breakfast. She seemed to have nothing at all but rheumatism and faith in God. One could not well be more\r\ncompletely exiled from all pleasantness of circumstances, yet the favorite song of this old creature ran:\r\nNobody knows de trouble I see, Nobody knows but Jesus;\r\nNobody knows de trouble I see-- Sing Glory Hallelu!\r\nSometimes I'm up, sometimes I'm down,\r\nSometimes I'm level on the groun'\r\nSometimes the glory shines aroun'-- Sing Glory Hallelu!\r\nAnd so it went on:\r\nNobody knows de work I does, Nobody knows de griefs I has\r\nthe constant refrain being the \"Glory Hallelu!\" until the last verse rose:\r\nNobody knows de joys I has, Nobody knows but Jesus!\r\n\"Troubled on every side, yet not d [xxx]; perplexed, but not in despair, persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not\r\ndestroyed.\" It takes great Bible words to tell the cheer of the old negro auntie.\r\nRemember Luther on his sick-bed. Between his groans he managed to preach on this wise: \"These pains and trouble here are like the\r\ntype which the printers set; as they look now, we have to read them    backwards, and they seem to have no sense or meaning in them; but up yonder, when the Lord God prints us off in the life to come, we\r\nshall find they make brave reading.\" Only we do not need to wait\r\ntill then. Remember Paul walking the hurricane deck amid a boiling sea, bidding the frightened crew \"Be of good cheer,\" Luther, the\r\nold negro auntie--all of them human sun-flowers. --Wm. C. Gamett.",1783499792049]