A pall lies over the church. Like a thick blanket of winter fog, spiritual coolness hovers above the people of God, freezing right to the bone.
Where is passion? Where is heat? Where are spiritual vigor and zeal? Who is there among the saints who is truly devoted, who has counted all things as loss that he may gain Christ? Who is there that has forsaken all to follow in the way of the cross: forsaken pleasures as well as sin, left behind earthly comforts and passing joys for superior and lasting glory of a heavenly sort?
I confess that I myself am not such a man. Always distractions on every side; always laziness presses in on my soul; always does hesitancy slow my steps and timidity hinder my path when I would run hard after my God! O Lord! May I not be the man choked by the concerns of the world and the desire for other things! Let me rather die today in flames of fervent love for you and others than live ten thousand days in this spiritual desolation!
O my people, my people! My brothers and my sisters bought by Majesty’s blood! Will we not together be done with lesser things and do all for Jesus, sparing not our comfort or our very lives? Awake! Arise! Let us tread this day the path He walked: after Golgotha waits Glory!